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THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN 





Death to the Inquisitive! 


A STORY OF SINFUL LOVE. 


LURANA W. SHELDON, 


Nay, do not ask — 

In fityfrom the taskforhear : 

Smile on — nor venture to unmask 
Man's heart, and vietv the Hell thafs there!* 


NEW YORK 

W. D. ROWLAND, PUBLISHER 
23 Chambers Street 
1892 



Copyright, 189a 

BY 

W. D. ROWLAND. 



CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I. THE WHITECHAPEL MYSTERY. 

II. A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT .... 

III. RESCUED BY THIEVES .... 

IV. THE SHAME-BORN CHILD . . • . 

V. MAURICE SINCLAIR .... 

VI. A PAINFUL REMINISCENCE . 

VII. THE BREATH OF PASSION 

VIII. A MIDNIGHT CRIME .... 

IX. MAURICE SINCLAIR ESCAPES WITH HIS VICTIM 

X. THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN. 

XI. JULIA WEBBER LAYS PLANS FOR REVENGE 

XII. A SINFUL LOVE ..... 

XIII. THE CONTRACT BROKEN 

XIV. IN CENTRAL PARK .... 

XV. DEATH 

XVI. A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND 

XVII. BY THE ASHES OF A GUILTY HOUSE 
XVIII. STELLA IS RESTORED TO HER LOVER 
XIX. SAFE IN THE ARMS OF LOVE 
XX. DR. SEWARD’s EXPERIMENT . 

XXI. A PERFECT UNION « 4 t » . 


PAGE. 

5 

. 12 

. 20 

. 26 

• 33 

. 40 

• 47 

• 54 

. 61 

. 65 

• 73 

. 77 

. 85 

. • 93 

. 98 

. 104 

. 112 

. 120 

. 126 

• 133 
, 140 


4 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. PAGE 

XXII. ** QUEEN Liz” I45 

XXIII. ELIZABETH FINDS FRIENDS. .... I49 

XXIV. STELLA CONFIDES IN HER HUSBAND . . .153 

XXV. THE captain’s STORY . . . , .159 

XXVI. SORROW AND REJOICING . . . . . 163 

XXVII. THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE . . . . 168 

XXVIII. TOO LATE . . . . . . . I76 

XXIX. THE HOME IN NEW YORK 181 

XXX. SAM LEE DISCOVERS A FARO GAME . . . 188 

XXXI. CLEVERLY CAUGHT . " . . . . . I94 

XXXII. FACE TO FACE ...... . 200 ' 

XXXIII. “l HAVE NO name” ..... 205 

XXXIV. THE LADY VAN TYNE WILL FIGHT FOR HER HONOR. 2 1 I 
XXXV. STELLA AND ELIZABETH . . . . . 2 l 8 

XXXVI. A LAST ESCAPE. . . . . . .226 

XXXVII. FIVE YEARS AFTER . . . , . .229 



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MISS LURANA W. SHELDON. 


# 


t 




DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

A STORY OF SINFUL LOVE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE 'WHITECHAPEL MYSTERY. 


Hark ! It is a woman’s cry 
Echoing thro’ the unhallowed place 
Forward, to her rescue, fly — 

See the suffering in her face. 

A PIERCING shriek echoed throughout the entire 
length and breadth of the gloomy passage, hushed 
as it was in the brief hour of repose that usually 
intervened between the vice-rampant hour of mid- 
night and the ever reluctant dawn. 

It seemed as if the very light shrank from pene- 
trating the loathsome windings of that wretched 
quarter of London, and as to pure air, it simply 
refused to enter such illy ventilated nooks and 

5 


6 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

crevices, while the poisoned vapors that filled the 
narrow precincts were always trying to escape 
and failing through their own over-weight of reek- 
ing odors. 

The scream of the dying woman was carried 
indistinctly to the ears of the sleeping inmates 
simply because the air was too heavy with vile 
tobacco and whiskey, stale beer fumes, and the 
exhalations of festering garbage heaps to transmit 
anything in other than a confused and indistinct 
manner. 

Nevertheless there was something so extraor- 
dinarily frightful in the shriek that it did succeed 
in reaching the ears of nearly every habitue of the 
place, who, shrieking in their turn aroused the 
others, and one by one frowzeled heads and 
wrinkled faces issued from broken windows and 
rapidly, with shuffling footsteps, men and women 
crawled from innumerable dark passages and darker 
doorways, and with suspicious glances at each 
other, sneaked in and out through the slime and 
rubbish, in a half curious, half frightened search for 
a glimpse of that horrible tragedy. 

I say sneaked about, and I use the word 


THE WHITECHAPEL MYSTERY. 


7 


advisedly as the lawyers say, inasmuch as these 
degraded members of the human family, — these 
de-humanized fag ends of the genius Homo, did 
not walk, run, or perform any other specified 
motion in their perambulations. 

On the contrary, they hugged the walls and the 
gutters ; they were distrustful of the laws of gravi- 
tation and equilibrium, preferring to lean more or 
less heavily on walls and other supports, with 
bodies bent and faces averted, while the rapidity 
with which they appeared and disappeared was 
best appreciated by the Police who were supposed 
to guard this particular section of Whitechapel, 
but who religiously confined their guardianship to 
the outer walls, while the denizens of the multitu- 
dinous alleys or passages were free to perpetrate 
their murders, ply their nefarjpus trades and revel 
and rot in the stench of their own degradations. 

One by one these creatures crawled from their 
hiding places. 

Men were seen clutching the rags of their scanty 
clothing while their bleared eyes scanned every 
inch of the broken pavements. 

Women, with odd garments thrown carelessly 


8 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


about their shoulders, joined in the search, and for 
a brief time no word was spoken. 

Finally an old creature, dirtier if possible than 
the rest, bent in form, and with one long brown 
fang extending down over her shrunken chin, 
hobbled from a gloomy doorway and in a strident, 
nasal tone gave her opinion to these searchers of 
iniquity. 

Hits Queen Liz thet s done fer, HI knowed 
’er yell; You’ll find ’er somewheres down by the 
Chinaman’s shanty. HI spects ’e’s knifed ’er.” 

“ Good enough for ’er, the stuck hup ’uzzy,” 
exclaimed one of the wretched beings that followed 
closely at the woman’s heels. 

“To think of ’er livin’ ’ere for two years hand 
not speakin’ to no one but that greasy yaller-skin. 
HI knowed ’e’d get sick of ’er ’fore long.” 

“ S’pose you think hit’s your turn next,’' 
snapped up another bedraggled female, whereupon 
a vicious battle ensued between the two while the 
men and women halted in their search to watch, 
what to them was the very essence of life, — a 
fight. 

But the old crone who had first spoken crawled 


THE WHITECHAPEL MYSTERY. 


9 


on until she reached the Chinaman s quarters, and 
there sure enough, a Mongolian, swarthy and 
greasy, his beady eyes blazing with excitement, 
was bending over and trying with poor success to 
withdraw a villainous looking weapon, half knife, 
half dagger, from the breast of an apparently dying 
woman. 

The victim was a familiar figure in the Alley, 
and her clean, handsome face with its “hands-off” 
expression had long since won her the name of 
“ Queen Liz.” 

While her failure to mingle with the other 
women or receive the beastly attentions of the 
men had made her an object of hatred to all con- 
cerned, still she had won their respect by her evi- 
dent ability to defend herself at all times and in all 
circumstances, while the love she plainly bore her 
beautiful babe, a child of about two years, was a 
never ceasing source of wonderment and ridicule 
to these hardened mortals. 

It was true that Queen Liz spent much time in 
the quarters of this particular Mongolian while 
there were many more eligible parties of her own 
nationality in the passage, but Queen Liz was evi- 


10 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


dently above her station, and as the Mongolian in 
question was possessed of more worldly goods 
than were his neighbors, it was reasonably sup- 
posed that she sought the comforts and luxuries of 
Chinese fans and Oolong in preference to the 
other shanties with their ever prevalent aroma of 
stale beer. 

Nevertheless Queen Liz was not wholly over- 
whelmed by the wealth of Sam Hop Lee, because 
it was rumored that at certain intervals a gentle- 
man from the outside world ; a member of actual 
London society was seen going in and out of the 
narrow passage, Liz always accompanying him on 
these exits and entrances, for protection, it was 
generally supposed. 

The sight of the stranger in their own lawful 
precincts brought always a mixture of sentiments 
to the thieves and sharpers who infested these 
gloomy byways. 

Here was an excellent opportunity for opera- 
tions in their own particular line of business, but 
here also was a woman armed with the usual 
weapons of the alley, ready and anxious to meet in 
mortal combat any and all that should dare lay 
hands upon herself or guest. 


THE WHITECHAPEL MYSTERY. 


II 


Thus Queen Liz was let pretty severely alone 
by all, an,d her life past and present was a mystery 
too obscure to be in any danger of being solved by 
the beer muddled brains of her neighbors. 

But now Queen Liz was lying in the slime and 
mud of the alley with the deadly knife sticking 
firmly in her side, and as this uncanny assemblage 
of human scavengers drew nearer, Sam Lee gave 
one more vigorous pull at the weapon, and with- 
drawing it, turned its blade to the light of a flick- 
ering tallow dip, and instantly, in the eyes of each 
and every one present, he was acquitted of the 
horrible deed.^ 

The knife was of a make unknown in the alley 
and only to be found in the possession of a man 
to whom money is no object and who could well 
afford to follow his own fancies in the design of his 
favorite paper cutter, for such the weapon evidently 
was. 

Long, narrow and sharply pointed, the blade 
was of finest silver, handsomely engraved, and the 
ebony handle shone resplendent with gems, so 
placed as to form on the polished surface the 
initials M. S. in dazzling characters. 


CHAPTER II. 


A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT. 

Have pity, Reader, ’twas the fire 
Of human passion in her brain, — 

First, youth’s impulsive, mad desire, 

Then love, and love’s devouring pain. 

Some two years previous to the incidents of our 
opening chapter, in a quiet house situated on G — 
St., in the vicinity of Belmont Square, an aged 
couple sat quietly talking, while the shadows fell 
longer and darker about the room, and the 
increased tread of passing feet spoke plainly of the 
end of another day of that weary labor that fell to 
the lot of the large number of tradespeople who 
lived in this row of modest houses. 

The aged couple mentioned were occupying 
the two narrow windows that faced the crowded 
thoroughfare, and the two faces were pressed 
anxiously against the glass, while the old eyes 


A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT. 


13 


peered eagerly up and down, over and across in a 
careful search for the one* of whom they had been 
quietly, speaking. 

There was silence for a little while and then the 
old man leaned back in his chair and, while wiping 
the moisture from his glasses with a generous 
square of cambric, said querulously ; 

“ It is mighty strange, Marthy, where Lizzie is. 
She ought to be home before this.” 

“ I know it, father,” responded his wife meekly. 
“ She’s been acting very strange of late, staying 
away from home and coming in at all hours as 
dragged out as if she had been walking the streets 
for miles.” 

“ Maybe that’s what she does,” snapped the old 
man, and then, as if ashamed of his hasty words, he 
added in a softer tone : Though why she should 
do that I can’t see. She’s got a good home here 
with us and has had ever since our poor Mary died 
and left us our grandchild in the place of our child 
to care for and protect.” 

And we’ve done both, father,” said the old 
lady, gently. “ Lizzie has no need to seek pleasure 
outside her own home, what, with the rooms to 


14 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

look after, her books, her piano and her needle 
work, she ought to be pretty well contented.” 

“ That s so, Marthy, but she evidently is not. 
Now ever since that young man rented our two 
back rooms and began to spend his evenings 
here — ” 

You don’t think she is in love with him, do 
you father ?” interrupted his wife quickly. 

“ Can’t say, Marthy, you women can judge better 
of that. I only know she acts uncommonly 
unhappy lately. Let’s see, the young fellow has 
been gone a week now, hasn’t he ?” 

“Yes, that is so, and Lizzie has seemed all 
broke down ever since. I was asking her yester- 
day to see Mr. Jeller, but she turned as white as 
anything. 

‘ No, no. Grandma,* she said, * I’ll not see any 
doctors. There’s nothing the matter with me, 
nothing !’ 

“ But there was a hard look came into her eyes, 
and the idea went through my mind that perhaps 
that gentlemanly looking fellow was just playing 
with her after all , and she had only found it out 
after her heart was gone from her,” 


A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT. 


15 


Here the old lady stopped to wipe the tears 
from her faded eyes, while the blood of his youth 
flushed her husband s face and, with cane uplifted, 
he muttered fiercely : 

“ If I thought that. I’d cane him, old as I am! 
Lizzie’s a good girl and has been as well raised 
and as well educated as the best of them, and if 
her father and grandfather before him were trades- 
people, they were honest and respectable, and I 
don’t know what better dowry a woman can need 
than her own virtues and accomplishments and a 
record behind her of generations of honorable 
people.” 

Here the old man again sank back in his chair, 
overcome by the violence of his emotions, while his 
wife, re-adjusting her glasses, moved aside the 
curtain and again peered out into the fast darken- 
ing street. 

There was silence for a few moments and then 
her husband resumed his position at the other 
window, while the ticking of the clock echoed, 
painfully distinct, through the silent room, and the 
sound of passing feet grew fainter and fainter, and 
darkness, mingling with the impenetrable vapors 


l6 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

of a London fog, settled heavily down upon the 
earth. 

Certainly no girl could have a more happy home 
or two more tender, loving companions than had 
Elizabeth Merril. 

But discontent is bred in the bone and needs no 
outward influence or surroundings to foster its 
soul destroying germs. 

Elizabeth had grown into womanhood, beautiful 
in form and feature, loyal in heart and spotless in 
her maidenly purity, but the seeds of discontent, 
inherited or otherwise, sprang up in her heart and 
took from every pleasure that fullness of joy which 
is so necessary to perfect happiness. 

It was her suggestion to rent the superfluous 
rooms thereby adding to the family exchequer 
and at the same time increasing her household 
duties. 

The logic was excellent, but the impulse of a 
dissatisfied mind prompted the suggestion and evil 
impulses, however logical, are rarely productive of 
good results. 

This particular instance was a most conclusive 
proof of the veracity of such reasoning. 


( 


A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT. 1/ 

For a few brief weeks Elizabeth’s heart was 
filled with content and peace. With her addi- 
tional labor came renewed ambition and the results 
seemed highly satisfactory to all concerned. 

Then, as time passed on and the young man 
who occupied the rooms found many and varied 
excuses for seeking her presence, the roses on 
Elizabeths cheeks deepened into carnation, her 
eyes flashed with a new born glory, and from morn 
till night the tender song of the nightingale burst 
joyously from her lips. 

The young man had occupied the rooms for 
nealy a year and his devotion to their grandchild 
had been constantly growing more marked. 

But for the past few months the song had 
ceased on Elizabeth’s lips and the rosy cheeks 
were growing steadily paler. 

In vain the aged couple watched and questioned, 
but Elizabeth’s feminine tact and spirit outwitted 
them. 

She fulfilled her duties patiently, as of yore, but 
would seize upon every possible pretext for 
remaining away from home, and now, during the 
week that her lover failed to appear at his cosy 


l8 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

apartments, they had hardly seen her for more 
than a few moments each day. 

Thus it was no wonder that to-night they 
watched and waited at their narrow windows while 
the hours stole by and still the wandering girl 
returned not to her pleasant home. 

Back and forth over the great London Bridge 
she was walking ; her head bent low ; her blue 
eyes fixed and glaring ; her pale lips compressed 
in bitter agony, while over and over again she 
paused and looked eagerly down into the sluggish 
water. 

The bridge was jammed as usual with hurrying" 
pedestrians and jostling carts, and few turned to 
look at the solitary figure. 

Now and then a watchful “ Bobby ” stopped and 
stared into her face and more than one of these 
experienced officers read the signs of coming 
trouble in her pallid features. 

But it was not their duty to ask her business or 
order her away. She was doing no harm and 
surely it would be but a meddlesome act on their 
part to try and avert the danger which they so 
plainly foresaw. 


A SUICIDAL ATTEMPT. 


19 


Still she walked on and on until the crowd was 
lessened and fewer officers remained on duty. 

Just as the fog, rising from the river below and 
the smoke falling from the chimneys above, met 
and mingled in a pall of gloom and obscurity, she 
turned again, paused, looked once more into the 
darkness below, then vaulting suddenly to the 
massive rail, sprang lightly forward through the 
mists and down into the awful waters. 


CHAPTER III. 


RESCUED BY THIEVES. 

And these are men, — these creatures bold, 

Who live to plunder and to kill ; 

Formed in the Great Creator’s mold 
But subject to the Devil’s will. 

If all committers of this deed of questionable 
cowardice would choose so opportune a moment 
for their rashness as did Elizabeth, they would 
probably live to see the error of their ways and to 
realize that the things we know are better than 
the things we know not of, but it is rarely that 
one so determined as she to terminate a wretched 
existence is thwarted in that desire by the presence 
of rescuers, but such was the case in this instance. 

Two men of the type commonly known in Lon- 
don as wharf “ rats or dock and river thieves, 
were slowly sculling along under cover of the 
intense fog on the lookout for plunder of any and 
every sort. 


20 


RESCUED BY THIEVES. 


21 


Naturally, when Elizabeths body struck the 
water not ten feet from their craft, they stopped 
sculling and quickly investigated the nature of the 
prey that had so literally fallen into their hands. 

Elizabeth was pulled into the boat apparently 
lifeless, and in less time than it takes to chronicle 
the event, was shorn of her pretty rings, purse and 
outer garments. 

A folded paper pinned securely to the lining of 
her waist was also promptly removed by the thief 
and thrust carelessly into the outer pocket of his 
coat as he doubtless thought it of little conse- 
quence, and only confiscated it through a natural 
impulse of greed and robbery. 

Then the younger of the two proceeded to 
fasten a heavy lead around her waist, and lifting 
her carefully in his arms was about to lower the 
body once more into the silent river whose waters 
had already swallowed up and forever concealed 
innumerable secrets of like nature, when a flash 
from his partner s lantern falling upon Elizabeth s 
upturned face revealed to him her exceeding love- 
liness and awoke within him an instinct, whether 
brutal or humane, we shall shortly determine. 


22 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


Oh, Oiy soiy, Bill, this ’ere lass is too bloomin’ 
*ansome tew feed de fishes wid,” he said, “ and she 
ben’t derd, nurther,’’ he added, as he noticed 
Elizabeth s breath returning in short, faint gasps. 
“ Ben’t hoften we picks hup such fine goods as 
dese,” he continued, while a fiendish expression 
passed over his swarthy face. “ Blowed if Oiy 
doesn’t think Oiy’ll confiscate dis fer m’ hown 
use,” and he drew Elizabeth’s still senseless form 
across his knee. 

“ Put ’er down. Jemmy! Cawn’t you wait till 
you gets to de dock or does yer want ter stay 
hout 'n dis 'ere fog hall night ?” said the older 
man gruffly, adding authoritatively : “ Cover de 
gal hup in de bottom, she’ll keep I Oiy’m wet tew 
de’ ide. Come, scull along hor we wont get ’ome 
till midnight.” 

Whether it was the fragments of original 
humanity that made him refuse to witness the 
desecration of helplessness, or whether he pos- 
sessed sufficient of the brute instinct to enjoy with 
keener relish the struggles of a frenzied woman in 
the hands of an unprincipled and determined 
villain, we can not tell ; — 


RESCUED BY THIEVES. 


23 


At any rate Elizabeth was allowed to lie quietly 
under an old sail in the bottom of the boat, return- 
ing slowly, but with such perfect control to acute 
consciousness that she allowed no sound of either 
fear or suffering to escape her lips. 

She overheard enough of their conversation, 
during the row down the river to show her who 
her rescuers were and what her ultimate fate would 
be unless she could escape from their clutches. 
She realized that even her unfortunate condition 
would give her no mercy in their hands and might 
rather be a source of more intense gratification to 
their fiendish and inhuman desires. Reason told 
her to remain perfectly passive, as it was evident 
they only awaited her return to consciousness for 
the furtherance of their diabolical plans. 

Even when the boat bumped heavily against the 
wharf, turned back and veered about in a most 
extraordinary manner and the damp fog of the 
river was exchanged for the foul stench of sewer 
gas and garbage floats, and she realized, with a feel- 
ing of horror, that they were gliding, not by, but 
under the dock, still she made no sound. 

At last they stopped by a rotten ladder ; the 


24 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


boat was tied and the younger man ’sprang hastily 
up the slippery steps and thrust open, with his 
shoulder, a heavy trap door. 

Then the older of the two raised Elizabeth from 
the boat and passed her up through the narrow 
opening to the man above. He then followed and 
after a hasty consultation between the two she 
was left, as the young “ rat ” expressed it, “ soif fer 
de present,” on a pile of rags in the corner of 
the cellar. 

Then, apparently regardless whether she lived 
or died, they ascended another rickety ladder and 
the sullen gleam of their lantern was soon lost to 
sight in the darkness above. 

Elizabeth waited until the sound of their foot- 
steps had passed away, then rising hastily, she 
began groping about in the darkness for the ladder 
which she had so dimly discerned by the light of 
the smoking lantern. 

Now every thing was dark, and the knowledge 
of that yawning trap-door and perhaps more just 
like it under her very feet, made her almost insane 
with fear. All desire for a watery death had van- 
ished from her mind. Her lungs were so filled 


RESCUED BY THIEVES. 


25 


with nauseous gases that it was with a feeling of 
almost frantic joy she touched the rungs of the 
worm-eaten ladder and prepared to climb to the 
landing above. 

The upper Hall was narrow, dirty and perfectly 
dark. Elizabeth groped her way carefully along, 
holding firmly to the wall, but could see no outlet 
or glimmer of light either before her or above, but 
knowing that to turn back would be but rushing 
to a fate far worse than death, she pressed eagerly 
forward, peering into the impenetrable darkness, 
while occasionally a great, slimy rat scampered 
across her foot, or a loathsome bat, with a sudden 
rush, passed so near her face that she turned sick 
with horror and held to the heavy walls with all 
her strength. 


CHAPTER IV, 


THE SHAME-BORN CHILD. 

Calm Death, — Thou comest not to such as these, — 

Their griefs affright thee, — their sad faces fail to please. 

Probably the length of time that elapsed (which 
seemed like an eternity to Elizabeth,) was, in real- 
ity, not more than half an hour before a ray of light 
greeted her eyes, coming through a ragged chink 
in the crumbling masonry of the heavy walls. 

Creeping cautiously forward she put her eye to 
the crevice and looked eagerly into the inner 
room. 

The scene she witnessed was well calculated to 
chill the blood of an able bodied man, but to a 
delicate woman, still trembling from the effects of 
her awful plunge into the river ; — hampered by 
dripping garments and nearly frantic with the fear 
of momentary violence, the sight was more than 
doubly horrible. 

2 ^ 


THE SHAME-BORN CHILD. 


27 


The room was nothing more than a large vault 
or closet built into the solid walls, probably for no 
definite purpose, but so well adapted to its present 
use that one would think its designer must have 
foreseen its ultimate fate. 

Several battered and smoking lanterns hung on 
nails, which had been wedged firmly between loose 
bricks in the decaying walls, their outlines appear- 
ing to her excited imagination not unlike the 
red eye balls and smoke begrimed faces of the 
score of beings upon whom their dismal glimmer 
fell. 

This score of individuals, representing a class of 
monsters, born in the slime of cellars ; nourished 
on the odors of decomposition and trained to 
accomplishments of vice and evil, were busy at the 
ghoulish work of robbing two human bodies, 
whose swollen and livid members plainly pro- 
claimed them trophies from the river’s unfailing 
supply. 

Ragged females with bloated faces and keen 
eyes were squabbling like cats over the articles 
which had been removed from the dead woman’s 
body, while the males cursed and struck at each 


28 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Other in a frantic struggle for the watch and jewels 
which the other water-soaked victim had worn. 

The scene was horrible, pile upon pile of rubbish 
was heaped about the room, and one and all 
seemed interested in claiming and getting posses- 
sion of as much plunder as they could, by fair 
means or foul. 

Elizabeth plainly identified her rescuers who 
were among the most quarrelsome of the lot, but, 
even in her bewilderment, she noticed that there 
was no mention made of their evenings work or 
of her body, which, of course, they supposed was 
safe in the recesses of that loathsome cellar. 

At this instant a vague thought flitted through 
her mind as to what booty her body had afforded 
them. She felt for her rings, but they were gone. 
She thrust her hand into the bosom of her dress 
for her watch, and her lips grew white as ashes, 
while a new horror, passing through her brain, 
overcame for the moment all fear of personal vio- 
lence. The paper which had been safe in her bosom 
when she sprang from the bridge was not there. 
She had determined that the secret which it held 
should die with her, but now that her plan for death 


THE SHAME-BORN CHILD. 


29 


had failed, the recovery of that treasured paper 
must be the whole aim and purpose of her life. 

Again the miserable creature who had rescued 
her from death became the unknowing instrument 
of her good fortune. 

The young thief, whom she recognized as Bill,” 
became violently angry over the unequal distribu- 
tion of the jewels and, throwing off his coat, struck 
wildly at his partner, while the others proceeded 
with their individual bickerings, apparently uncon- 
scious of the pugilistic encounter. 

The coat in falling obscured, in a measure, 
Elizabeth’s view of the inner room. 

She had lost all thought of fear in her wild 
determination to secure the missing paper. 

Pushing her hand cautiously into the hole in the 
masonry she dislodged a portion of brick with little 
trouble, then forcing her white arm carefully 
through the opening she touched the coat and 
pulled it gently aside. 

Her idea was simply to gain another unob- 
structed view of the room, but accidently her fing- 
ers touched the edge of a folded paper protruding 
from the pocket, and quick as flash Elizabeth 


30 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


closed her fingers upon it and drew it toward her 
through the hole. She could not see it, but the 
familiarity of touch and feeling convinced her that 
it was her bosom companion for the past ten 
months, and even in the excitement and danger of 
the situation she stood motionless for a moment 
while she pressed it fervently to her lips. 

Then, taking advantage of a particularly noisy 
scuffle, Elizabeth slipped softly by the door. The 
terrors of nightmare were upon her. She imagined 
she heard them pursuing her but could not run for 
fear of falling in the darkness ; pitching down 
some hidden trap or making some accidental 
sound that would tell them of her presence. 

At last, after almost innumerable windings, a 
glimmer of electric light came down upon her 
through a cellar grating which opened directly 
upon the street. A little further on and another 
flight of worm eaten steps were before her. Up 
these she climbed, and raised, with all her strength 
a heavy grating, then, feeling once more the pure air 
upon her brow and the sense of freedom in her soul, 
she reeled and fell heavily forward, like an inani- 
mate body, upon the damp, gray curb stone. How 


THE SHAME-BORN CHILD. 


31 


long she lay there she could not tell, but the bell 
of a distant cathedral, tolling the hour of midnight, 
aroused her, and she crawled along until her 
strength in a measure returned, then, rising, she 
walked as quickly as possible away from this 
terrible neighborhood. On and on she went, her 
strength failing her at every step, until once more 
exhausted she sank down before the gateway of a 
large building, which, fortunately for her, proved to 
be a Hospital. 

Here she was found by a resident physician on 
his return from the Opera in the early morning 
hours. 

Some time during the following day an employee 
of the Hospital discovered a soiled and water- 
stained Marriage Certificate, which the wind had 
evidently blown behind the massive gates. The 
Certificate was placed in the physician’s private 
desk for safe keeping, but no connection between 
it and the suffering woman was ever suspected, 

Elizabeth was placed immediately in the ward, 
and every care given her, but for four weeks she 
hovered between life and death, raving of murder, 
robbery, suicide and all such frightful happenings, 


32 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


until the anxious physician feared for her reason 
as well as for her life. It was not until her child 
was born, a month after her entrance, that she 
gained, either mentally or physically, but after 
another four weeks of excellent nursing she was 
discharged from the Hospital as needing no further 
treatment. 

She had given the authorities a false name in an 
almost involuntary effort toward self-protection 
and the concealment of her degradation, receiving 
at their hands that disinterested and strictly 
impartial attention bestowed upon all their 
patients. She was to them but one of thousands 
who drift on the shoals of sin and are left to 
perish, or are floated off by the tide of life to a 
longer struggle and a fiercer death on the ragged 
rocks of crime, therefore it was only natural that 
her case elicited no special comment from the busy 
officials. Thus, sick at heart, homeless, friendless, 
with no money, and with her shame-born child 
resting heavily upon her arm, Elizabeth went forth 
once more into the streets of London. 


CHAPTER V. 


MAURICE SINCLAIR. 

The storm that tears the human heart 
With deepest furrows, leaves its trace 
Like shadows from a passing cloud 
Upon the mirror of the face. 

Passing through Portland Place, at about the 
hour of eleven, on that damp, foggy night, it would 
have been impossible not to notice the most 
attractive of the many beautiful houses, for there 
emanated from its windows such a blaze of light 
that even the dense vapor that obscured all objects 
in its near vicinity was penetrated by the brilliancy 
for some distance. 

The carriages that stopped before its portals 
loomed up through the mist like phantoms, while 
the guests that entered the spacious door only lost 
their ghastliness as they emerged into the full glare 
of the inner hall during the brief moment of transit. 


34 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

It was very evident that a ball of more than 
ordinary magnificence was in progress, and one 
glance at the face of the hostess, Mrs. Archibald 
Sinclair, would have shown any intelligent observer 
that, to Mrs Sinclair, at least, the necessity for 
making this particular entertainment a glorious 
success was so urgent that it destroyed, in a meas- 
ure, her own enjoyment. Yet, with the innate tact 
of a woman born to receive, to entertain, and to 
genuinely please her guests, all trace of anxiety 
was carefully concealed, all nervousness overcome, 
and only affability and satisfaction were allowed 
reflection upon her expressive countenance. 

However, in spite of her complacent demeanor, 
there were few mothers present at that reception 
but could readily appreciate her feelings and who 
did not, in their inmost hearts, admire her diplo- 
matic tact during so trying an ordeal. 

Not a few carefully modulated voices signified to 
each other their opinion and approval of her man- 
ner, for the gossips were out in full force that 
evening. They knew by long anticipation that 
food for their insatiable appetites would be fur- 
nished on this occasion in the person, manner and 


MAURICE SINCLAIR. 


35 


language of Maurice Sinclair, tlieir hostess* enig- 
matical son, who had so lately returned from the 
Great Desert of Gobi or some other equally unde- 
sirable quarter of the earth s surface. 

True, rumor had it that this eccentric young 
man had been seen in and about the City at inter- 
vals during the past year, but as any allusion made 
to the widow, his mother, on this subject, met 
with unapproachable silence, the matter was pru- 
dently dropped, and the information derived from 
newspapers and casual observers accepted or 
rejected according to the minds of the hearers, in 
the absence of better authority. 

Many of the matrons present this eyening 
recalled, only too accurately, the days when Maurice 
Sinclair s boyish pranks refused for him admission 
to one school after another. His wrong doings 
were always of a nature too delicate for public 
mention and, after a more than usually disgrace- 
ful affair while he was only fifteen years of ag , 
he suddenly vanished, and, but a month later, 
Archibald Sinclair, his disappointed father, was 
laid to rest in the family plot, leaving behind a 
sorrowing wife and a nearly heart-broken mother. 


36 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


At last, after five years had elapsed, Mrs. Sin- 
clair, tired of the great house, and the wealth and 
splendor which she could never enjoy in solitude, 
adopted a distant relative, a beautiful girl of six- 
teen, and upon her she lavished the love of her 
true womanly heart and the wealth that flowed so 
abundantly into her coffers from many sources. 

Stella Ives, or Stella Sinclair as she was after- 
wards called, was one of those peculiarly beauti- 
ful women, combining that which is most rarely 
seen, beauty of face and form, with great depth of 
character and unusual mental precocity. Now, at 
the age of twenty-one, Stella stood peerless 
among her companions. Her wavy yellow hair 
fell low over a broad white forehead. Her hazel 
eyes shone with the clear light of a brilliant intel- 
lect. Her mouth was large, but shapely and 
sweet, and, in laughing, disclosed a set of faultless 
teeth that were at once the envy and admiration 
of all. Stella was a little above medium height, 
plump and graceful, and withal a girl whom all 
could admire, but whose natural reserve held aloof 
from her shrine the many lovers who would gladly 
pay their homage to so fair a divinity. 


MAURICE SINCLAIR. 


37 


Ten years had passed since Maurice disappeared 
and now, like one risen from the dead, he had 
^returned and, in a brief but affectionate note, stated 
his intention to assist in entertaining her guests 
on this particular evening. He explained his non- 
appearance since reaching London as due to sen- 
sitiveness about meeting the mother whom he 
had so deeply grieved, but having heard of his 
adopted sister’s “ coming out ” reception, he could 
control himself no longer and would throw himself 
humbly and unreservedly upon her mercy. 

Only an hour before the time for her guests to 
arrive Mrs. Sinclair called Stella to her luxurious 
dressing-room and, passing her arm around the 
young girl’s form, said fondly : Stella dear, look 
your best to-night. You know we expect a large 
contingent of lords and baronets, and nothing fills 
my old heart with more exquisite pleasure than to 
witness the admiration which they bestow upon 
my beautiful daughter.*’ 

Stella laughed softly, but no blush of foolish 
vanity rose in her face at her foster-mother’s ten- 
der words. She only pressed the matronly arm 
affectionately and replied, “ All right, mamma, I 


38 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

will do my best. But you are sure it is because of 
the ‘ lords and baronets ’ that you wish me to 
look my best? Confess now,” she continued 
archly, “ is it not because you wish the first glimpse 
of his adopted sister to be a satisfactory one to 
Maurice that you take this violent interest?’^ 

A little disconcerted by the young girl’s read- 
ing of her secret, Mrs. Sinclair could only laugh 
and push her gently from the room. 

After Stella had gone, Mrs. Sinclair sank down 
on the sofa by the heavily draped window to hold 
brief communion with herself as was her wont 
when questions or thoughts of more than usual 
importance arose in her mind. There was only a 
few moments in which to thus commune, but Mrs. 
Sinclair possessed that distinctly feminine ability 
to evolve various extraordinary theories on a 
given subject and yet deduct therefrom a logical 
conclusion in about half the time it would take a 
less intuitive brain to lose itself completely in an 
inextricable tangle of reasons and vagaries. ‘‘ The 
past is past,” was her conclusion. 

“ My son will to-night be under my roof ; I 
must begin at the beginning ; there shall be no 


MAURICE SINCLAIR. 


39 


reproaches. I shall offer him love, money, home, 
influence and a fair chance of winning a beautiful 
wife. If he refuses these, there is nothing more." 

So saying, she rose, and with a hopeful look in 
her eyes, passed, in her own stately and gracious 
manner, down the wide staircase and on into the 
spacious parlors of her beautiful home, now doubly 
attractive to her by the anticipated happiness of 
her son’s return. 

For, although there was little doubt but that 
the erratic Maurice had been in London for many 
months, yet he had not seen fit to gladden his 
mother’s heart with the sight of his almost for- 
gotten face until just in time to give Stella’s birth- 
day reception a double significance. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A PAINFUL REMINISCENCE. 

How few look back upon a past 
Of spotless purity, — and who 
Would dare absolve with prayer and fast 
The deeds they’ve done — the deeds they do ; 


Whatever maybe the prejudice existing against 
the customary shams, deceptions and hypocrisies 
of society, certainly the sugar coating which good 
breeding and etiquette throw over the many bitter 
and disagreeable ingredients that go to make 
up our daily lives, is very palatable and pleasing. 
Suspicions may be aroused ; curiosity be on the qui 
vive, anxiety and interest waging violent warfare 
in the human heart, yet the restrictions and obli- 
gations of courtesy demand self-control and affa- 
ble manners, while gentle words make smooth 
many sharp and jagged corners in life’s mental 


40 


A PAINFUL REMINISCENCE. 


41 


conflict, that uncovered would oftentimes cause 
friction and discomfort. 

In vain the gossips looked and listened for some 
fragment of food for their customary menu, but 
neither Mrs. Sinclair or Stella showed by look or 
word that this particular reception was fraught with 
more than the usual interest, and as to the long 
lost son, his sojourn among the heathen nations 
of the earth, seemed to both foster and expand his 
naturally courteous disposition. His meeting with 
his mother had been cordial in the extreme. 
There was no time for lavish demonstration of 
affection, as he only arrived a brief ten minutes 
before the earliest guest. His presentation to his 
adopted sister, however, was marked by a change 
of demeanor that was plainly observed by all, yet, 
no person present, so far overcame the feeling of 
wonder that his manner generated, as to even 
boast of an approximate guess regarding its cause. 
The look that came into his wide, gray eyes when 
they first fell upon the beautiful girl, was one of 
amazement, and the gossips instantly concluded 
that beautiful women had been rare in his experi- 
ence. Then a lurid light gleamed in his eyeballs; 


42 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

the lines of his face became drawn and tense, and 
hatred, and envy, were instantly ascribed to him. 
But as he touched her hand in greeting, a look so 
plainly indicative of carnal passion gleamed in 
every feature of his now diabolical face, that cold 
shivers and sensations of horror, swept through 
the sympathetic natures present, and doubtless, 
the maids and matrons, would have risen en-masse 
and called for their carriages, had not the sudden 
withdrawal of Stella’s hand, brought back, as if by 
magic, the winning smile to the young man’s 
countenance and transformed him again, in an 
instant, into the hero of the evening. 

The dowagers reasoned that their lorgnettes 
were dimmed and their visions contorted thereby, 
while the maidens, serene in their innocence, forgot 
in a brief time the glimpse they had, or fancied 
they had, into man’s inmost nature, and vied with 
each other in their efforts to win the approval of 
so distinguished and withal so mysterious a parti. 
Possibly a vague thought of this young scion’s 
probable inheritance brought favorable influence to 
bear upon the stricter morals of the scheming 
mammas, as social position and wealth have hereto^ 


A PAINFUL REMINISCENCE. 


43 


fore and probably always will weigh successfully in 
the balance against questionable character and 
immorality. 

Nevertheless, so strong was the momentary 
resemblance between this fascinating young man 
and the numerous likenesses of the mythical 
Beelzebub, that the Lady Van Tyne assured her 
family physician, in a strictly confidential interview 
the next morning, that, “ for an instant it seemed as 
if the very curls of auburn hair stood up on his 
temples like horns, and she was sure that almost 
countless numbers of hooked and venomous claws 
protruded from his dainty patent leather boots, 
while as to his face,’’ — here she shuddered with a 
convulsive, reminiscent spasm, it was the face of 
Satan himself ! 

The good Doctor listened and sympathized ; 
prescribed a pleasing tonic and rendered a modest 
bill, but he was afterward heard to say to his assist- 
ant, quite unprofessionally, of course. “ It’s won- 
derful what champagne will do. If the ladies 
would only stick to Bass, now ! ” 

The Lady Van Tyne and her family physician 
were on the very best of terms, however. 


44 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

It had been remarked by many that Dr. Seward 
was the only human being whom the wilful lady 
feared or felt disposed in any particular to obey. 

But both the physician and his proud patron 
still bore in undying remembrance a little episode 
of early days, and for reasons of mutual interest, 
their friendship remained firm and unimpeachable. 

Thirty years before. Lady Van Tyne was a 
plump, pretty brunette of eighteen, or rather, such 
was the charming Isabel Montfort, for the wealthy 
Sir Casper Van Tyne had not as yet secured her 
for his bride, and Dr. Seward was but a beginner 
in the fascinating science which later brought him 
fame and fortune. 

Now, whenever he saw the Lady Van Tyne, his 
thoughts involuntarily wandered back to the sum- 
mer day when, with consternation in her face, 
Lady Montfort had called upon him with the viva- 
cious Isabel to secure his immediate and most 
careful services. 

The good lady readily accepted his verdict and 
in all innocence prepared her daughter for the 
immediate journey to America, which the impera- 
tive physician prescribed. 


A PAINFUL REMINISCENCE. 


45 


Little did the good woman realize that all her 
elaborate preparations were smiled at, more or 
less sadly, by her daughter and the clever 
physician. 

For, instead of the extended trip across the 
ocean. Miss Isabel betook herself quietly to the 
private residence of the physician, and .there for 
three months she remained under the careful sur- 
veillance of doctor and nurse. 

The ruse was more than successful, inasmuch as 
Miss Isabel was restored to her mother, and Sir 
Casper s eager arms, in rapidly improving health, 
while the young physician s somewhat astounding 
fee was quietly paid by a gentleman of excellent 
social standing who was, moreover, the husband of 
one of the most charming and estimable ladies of 
Dr. Seward’s acquaintance. 

The secret had been well guarded. Now and 
then a dull pang of self-reproach was experienced 
by the physician when he remembered how indiffer- 
ent he had been to the fate of the child after he 
had secured a home and guardianship for it. He 
watched it more or less interestedly for about ten 
years, as he also watched that other boy so singu- 


46 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

larly ^like in feature but so widely different in par-- 
entage and social prospects. 

The boys, at ten and eleven respectively, were 
as near alike as brothers, but from that time on 
there were changes in the adopted parents mode 
of life, and the child of unsanctified love vanished 
from his gaze forever. 

Into the lives of all physicians there come many 
and varied episodes of private nature, but probably 
of all the secret games indulged in by unscrupulous 
human beings, that one is best remembered 
wherein they hold so prominent a hand. 

It was little wonder, in the light of such reflec- 
tions, that Dr. Seward evinced not only a slight 
irritability regarding his patient s hallucination, but 
also a most extraordinary desire to see this young 
man whose personal appearance was so suggestive 
of the Infernal Regions. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE BREATH OF PASSION. 

The torch-light of Passion, how fierce is its power — 

It wakens, it burns, it consumes in an hour; 

Accursed is the mortal who feels its hot breath. 

For the end is destruction — destruction and death. 

Unfortunately for the fate of her future, Stella 
did not see the extraordinary expression on the 
young man’s face that caused such mental conster- 
nation among her guests. 

The thrill which vibrated through her entire 
being at the touch of his firm hand rendered 
her incapable for the moment of meeting his eyes. 

So strong was the current of magnetism that 
passed between them that the mingled sensations 
of fear and bewilderment forced her to withdraw 
her hand with so much vehemence that she was 
obliged, from an innate sense of courtesy, to make 

47 


48 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

a trifling remark to cover the seeming rudeness of 
her action. 

So swift was the transformation in his face, 
that, when her eyes were finally raised to his, 
only the sweetest of smiles wreathed his proud, 
passionate lips, and the glance he bent upon 
her, was one of mingled reverence and admira- 
tion. 

In vain the dowagers angled and the maidens 
blushed and simpered. 

Maurice Sinclair moved about among the guests, 
always charming and attentive, but his expressive 
eyes followed Stella in her every motion and 
seemed to devour her beauty with an intensity so 
deep as to render him unconscious even to his 
own enchantment. 

Only one of the gentlemen present had noticed 
particularly the greeting between Maurice and 
Stella, or if they had, man-like, they had attached 
no significance to the expression whatsoever, and 
would undoubtedly have reasoned, had their 
opinions been asked on the subject, that a man^s 
face often expresses sentiments foreign to his 
nature, and that a fellow could hardly be called to 


THE BREATH OF PASSION. 


49 


account for the idiosyncrasies and caprices of 
unruly features. 

But Sir Frederic Atherton had, for reasons of 
his own, been a keen observer of Maurice's face, 
and a look of loathing crossed his own noble coun- 
tenance as he muttered, almost audibly, a word 
that sounded singularly like “ cur." But as he 
noted the magical effect on Stella, he drew a long 
sigh which was as promptly checked with a firm 
closing of the lips, and stepping quickly forward 
actually stood between the two, then offering his 
arm to Stella with a laughing remark, he led her 
away, from a glance, which in his honorable soul, 
seemed like desecration. 

Sir Frederic was nearly forty years of age ; a 
man marvelously blessed by nature, in that he 
possessed not only a magnificent bearing ; a face 
grand in its determination and strength ; but a 
mental calibre as well, unequaled by another of his 
associates. To these he had added integrity and 
justice ; winning the confidence of all by his hon- 
orable dealings both in social and business relations. 

Women worshiped and followed him ; Yea, they 
even flung themselves at his very feet, but thus far 


50 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

in life Sir Frederic had remained heart whole 
and fancy free,” while the memory of a good mother 
and a faithful sister saved him from being, like the 
majority of men whom women flatter, a chronic 
disbeliever in the chastity of their sex. Always 
courteous and gentle, it was no wonder that women 
and children loved and trusted him. Strong and 
honorable, it was only natural for men to give him 
confidence and respect, and he whom his fellow- 
men regard is sure to be of all men the most 
trustworthy. 

The love of woman may be but the consequence 
of perfect features, manly proportions or a musical 
voice, but the regard of man for man comes only 
as the result of sterling worth. 

For some time Sir Frqderic had been question- 
ing himself regarding the quality of his affection 
for Mrs. Sinclair s beautiful adopted daughter, but 
not until he saw her, a delicate flower, exposed if 
only for a second to the baneful light of an evil eye, 
did he realize how deeply and dearly he loved 
Stella. The truth stabbed him like a knife, but 
after the first sharp pain, and as he felt her hand 
upon his arm, a joy surged through his being that 


THE BREATH OF PASSION. 


51 


the forty well spent years of his life had hitherto 
failed to bring him. 

After a moment’s conversation with Mrs. Sin- 
clair, Stella was again led away by one of Her 
Majesty’s officers for a sprightly polka, and Sir 
Frederic glad to commune for a moment with his 
somewhat excited heart, moved a heavy chair 
farther into the shadow and sat down, while his 
eyes also watched the graceful movements of Stella, 
but with very different emotions from those which 
were rushing through Maurice Sinclair’s brain at 
the same time. 

Stella had danced with one after another of her 
guests and was seated for a moment’s rest on a 
wide turkish divan in a shaded corner of the room. 

It was only a moment, but Maurice’s restless 
glance sought her out, and smiling his excuses into 
the baby face of Lady Isabel Van Tyne’s youngest 
daughter, he, much to her disappointment, strolled 
across the room and stood before Stella with the 
subdued light of a chandelier brightening his wavy 
hair into glittering rings about his well shaped 
head. 

“ May I call you Stella ? ” he whispered abruptly, 


52 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


as he bent slightly toward her and rested one 
shapely white hand on a pot of rare exotics that 
helped to shade the sofa on which she rested. 

Mrs. Sinclair was passing at that moment and 
the ring on Maurice’s finger caught her eye. With 
a tender smile she laid her hand upon his and 
whispered softly, “ How well I remember that 
ring, Maurice.’' 

It was puzzling to Stella that he should appear 
so confused at this simple remark of his mother and 
withdraw his hand so rudely from her gentle clasp, 
but Mrs. Sinclair had passed quietly on, and remem- 
bering that his question remained unanswered she 
controlled her thoughts and responded frankly, 
“ Certainly, Maurice, I should feel awkward enough 
to call you Mr. Sinclair after hearing and speaking 
the name of Maurice so frequently for so many 
years. I think, really, I almost consider you my 
own brother,” she continued shyly, although a 
passing blush and an almost imperceptible hesitancy 
in her speech gave the pretty avowal an appearance 
of untruthfulness. 

To the many eager observers of this momentary 
by-play, the avowal, judged by the eye alone, 


THE BREATH OF PASSION. 


53 


seemed almost a confession of a dearer sentiment 
than the sisterly affection to which she had so 
frankly laid claim. . 

Notwithstanding her words of Platonic friendship 
Maurice smiled as if well pleased, not only with the 
words but their silent contradiction. He sank 
gracefully upon the divan by her side and in 
so doing his hand accidently touched hers and 
in an instant there xame again that expression 
of consuming passion that had darkened his face at 
their first meeting. Again the mesmeric spell of 
his presence was upon her. A sensation, this time 
wholly indescribable, passed over her frame and 
as before she was powerless to raise her eyes until 
the cloud was lifted and once more the calm of a 
summer sky was mirrored on his exquisite face. 

Just at that instant a slight crash was heard near 
by and both started involuntarily from their 
momentary forgetfulness to ascertain the cause. 


CHAPTER VIII, 


A MIDNIGHT CRIME. 

How oft men use the gifts of God 
To aid their plans and cloak their sins; 

At nightfall, silence reigns above 
And deviltry on earth begins. 

The noise was merely the shivering to atoms of 
a small Venetian vase which stood on a diminutive 
ebony table not far from the divan on which Stella 
was seated. 

Mrs. Sinclair had accidently struck the table, and 
the gossips declared afterward, in the privacy of their 
own Boudoirs, that she was watching her son at the 
very time when his accidental touching of Stella s 
hand had wrought so fearful a change upon his 
features, and, quite naturally, they argued that an 
intuitive fear for her adopted daughter s future made 
her hand unsteady. At any rate, she had turned 
54 


A MIDNIGHT CRIME. 55 

suddenly pale and grasped the slender table for 
support with the result already mentioned. 

Maurice sprang promptly forward, and motioning 
to a servant to remove the fragments of glass, 
offered his arm gracefully to his mother and passed 
up the room to where the Countess Martinet was 
sitting with her angular daughter. ‘ 

Stella took this opportunity to join the Misses 
Huntington on a neighboring sofa and again the 
strains of music floated through the spacious parlors 
and partners were soon whirling gaily about in the 
witcheries of a glorious waltz. 

Never had Stella looked so superbly beautiful as 
to-night, with the graceful folds of her exquisite 
white satin draperies clinging about her charming 
figure. The gold of her hair scintillated in myriad 
irridescent rays about her broad forehead and 
snowy neck, while the gleaming diamond star that 
shown upon her bosom vied with the sparkling 
lustre of her eye, and in the opinions of the gentle- 
men, at least, paled woefully in the comparison. 

Before this enjoyable ball was over it was no 
wonder that hearts, adoration and homes were 
silently or in hurried, eager whispers, laid humbly 


56 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

upon the altar of love, and many an ardent lover 
went home that night to dream of heavenly raptures 
or exactly the reverse. 

To Stella, however, the sentiment of all absorb- 
ing passion was, as yet unknown. Life was at its 
best and brightest with her, and the brief, inexplic- 
able sensation of fear which she had felt at Maurice s 
touch, was the only cloud, small and visionary as it 
was, that in any way darkened the skies of her 
perfect happiness. 

The fog was still resting heavily upon the earth 
when the last carriage rolled away and Maurice 
walked with his mother up the broad stairs to 
spend his first night in ten years beneath the 
parental roof. 

Some way Stella lingered longer than usual that 
night over her adieux to Sir Frederic Atherton, 
but the fault, if fault it was, could not be laid at 
her door. 

His carriage was the last and if he held her hand 
a moment longer than usual, she reasoned that, it 
was only because he had known her from childhood 
and now, at her debut into the world of womanly 
duties and pleasures, it was only natural that he 


A MIDNIGHT CRIME. 


57 


should feel a desire to congratulate and perhaps 
advise her for her future welfare. 

It was with this idea in mind that she let her 
hand rest quietly in his and raised her eyes so con- 
fidently to his face. 

What she saw there was neither the courteous 
smile , of congratulation or the benign bearing of one 
about to offer sage admonition. Instead, she saw 
a look of such ineffable tenderness bent upon her, 
that to her inmost soul there came an instan- 
taneous sense of security, protection and sacred 
confidence, and tears suffused her lovely eyes in a 
blinding flood of gratitude which she was power- 
less to control. 

Another instant and his lips had touched her 
golden hair, and the sound of the departing carriage 
told her he was gone. 

With a curious feeling of loneliness and amaze- 
ment thereat, she followed, almost in a dream, to 
Mrs. Sinclair s door. 

Stella said good night as soon as possible, think- 
ing that in all probability mother and son would 
wish to converse on many topics of interest, but 
as she passed from the room she turned and 


58 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

smiling sweetly, said, I am sorry to usurp your 
old quarters in the west wing, Maurice, but we 
thought I had better not change as the south room 
might be more grateful to your warm country 
tastes.’^ 

With this slightly saucy allusion to his mys- 
terious past, Stella kissed her finger tips to. Mrs. 
Sinclair and closed the door softly behind her. 

After Stella had gone Maurice seemed suddenly 
fatigued. The light vanished from his eyes and 
his tones grew languid, while a certain nervousness 
of manner betrayed to Mrs. Sinclair’s acute percep- 
tions the fact that, for some reason, her son felt 
ill at ease in his mother’s presence. 

Kissing him fondly she made haste to say, 
“ Now darling, you had better go right to your 
room. We shall have plenty of time to talk in 
the future, for I am an old woman now and I trust 
my son will never feel like leaving me again.” 

‘‘ How old is Stella, mother ?” was his some- 
what irrelevant remark when she had finished 
speaking. 

“ She is twenty-one to day, my son, and I think 
you will agree that a sweeter, truer woman could 


A MIDNIGHT CRIME. 


59 


hardly be imagined, responded his mother 
warmly. 

She is very beautiful,’* Maurice began, but 
checking himself, he said abruptly, I have spent 
the last three years of my life wandering about in 
the heart of the Great Desert of Shamo, and some 
times I fancy the sulphurous fumes and heat of its 
burning lakes have Impregnated my blood and 
tainted my whole system with a substance, which, 
although capable of overcoming other impurities, 
is but a poor choice between the natural and the 
acquired evil.” 

Here, seeing his mother’s look of complete 
mystification, he paused and added playfully, “ Ah, 
mother, I have frightened and perplexed you all 
ready : I must retire and to-morrow you shall say 
whether I am brute or human, for in truth, some 
times I can hardly tell.” With these words he 
laughed a low, musical and extraordinarily joyous 
laugh that had attracted her once before that even- 
ing, then touching his mother’s cheek lightly with 
his lips, went hurriedly from the room, through 
the hall and up the wide staircase. 

On reaching the hall above he paused for a 


6o 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


moment as if in doubt and then turned abruptly 
toward the west wing and, notwithstanding Stella s 
parting words, passed swiftly on until he reached 
the door of his “ old quarters,*’ then he drew a small, 
odd looking vial from his pocket and with it still 
in his hand, turned the handle and without word 
or warning, quietly entered the room. 


CHAPTER IX. 


MAURICE SINCLAIR ESCAPES WITH HIS VICTIM. 

In the darkness of the night, 

When^the sun has lost command, 

Wrong walks side by side with right — 

Sin and truth go hand in hand. 

Mrs. Sinclair rose late the next morning. A 
sleepless night had been followed by hours of 
heavy slumber which extended far into the fore- 
noon. She awoke as she had retired, burdened 
with a trouble for which she could find no tangible 
form. 

Here was her only son, resembling his father in 
face and manner, — a young man exemplary to all 
appearances, the knowledge of whose safe return, 
after long years of sorrowful separation, had 
overflowed her heart v/ith gratitude and mother 
love, but whose actual presence thrilled her, not 
with unspeakable affection, but with an indefinable 


62 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


sensation of perplexity and apprehension. She 
blamed herself for the restraint which so evidently 
existed between Maurice and herself, and in this 
self accusing mood she rose and prepared earnestly 
to explore the seemingly inaccessible paths to her 
son’s estranged affections. 

Breakfast, was the first suggestion of her sensible 
mind. She smiled, even in her perplexity, at this 
prompting of the flesh, but obeying the practical 
impulse, she rang for the butler and assured herself 
that everything in this particular department was 
in its customary, excellent condition. 

She was indeed perplexed and the limit of her 
logical nature was reached when she undertook 
the Herculean task of lifting the cloud which hung 
so heavily oyer her son’s individuality. She saw 
no inherited trait, neither could she account for 
the developing of those peculiarities which so early 
in life branded her only son with the marks of evil 
associations and morbid desires. True, his faults at 
fifteen years were but the outcome of boyish 
adventures and experiments, but a nature like his, 
impulsive and so prone to investigation, had 
caused her, even in his childhood days, to look 


^MAURICE SINCLAIR ESCAPES WITH HIS VICTIM. 63 

forward to serious, inevitable results unless added 
years brought more than the average amount of 
judgment to balance the opposing inclinations. 

Living, as he evidently had, in ignorant and 
brutal Mongolian habitations, the seeds of vice, 
she reasoned, could easily have been fostered, yet 
why she should so persistently associate vice with 
every thought of this almost faultless young man, 
was a mystery she could not solve with all her 
reasoning. 

She feared him intuitively, and with this 
thought of fear there came, strangely enough, a 
thought of Stella, and obeying an impulse which 
she could not resist, she went to the young girl’s 
room to awake her for the breakfast hour. She 
knocked repeatedly at Stella s door, but there was 
no response. She called her name excitedly, then 
trembling with torturing apprehension, pushed 
open the door and entered the apartment. 

Stella was not there. The bed was undisturbed, 
so also was each and every article about the room. 
Almost unconsciously she bent and picked up a 
small vial from the floor, and thrusting it into her 
pocket, rushed wildly into .the hall and straight on to 


64 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

the rooms designed for her son s occupancy, and 
turning the latch without ceremony, stepped 
breathlessly in, only to find that also vacant and 
everything in perfect order. Running frantically 
^about the house, for a few moments the bewildered 
woman forgot all self control and in agonizing 
tones enlisted every member of her household in a 
search for the missing ones. 

All in vain : Stella and Maurice had disappeared 
in the blackness of the night, and the impenetrable 
fog had swallowed up their footsteps and obliterated 
every trace by which the direction of their flight 
could be determined. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN. 

The sinner stands with tearless eye 
And looks on virtue’s lovely grace 
Too late, her soul’s repentant cry 
The brand of sin is on her face 

At the very hour in the morning when Mrs. 
Sinclair and her servants were searching every 
nook and corner of the elegant residence, away 
over on the Surrey side of the great bridge, in a 
large brick house, standing far back from the 
street, two people, a man and a woman, were bend- 
ing over a delicate form, clad in an evening dress 
of pure white satin that looked strangely out of 
place in this scarlet hued Harem of unchastity. 
The very hangings blushed in rose red symphonies 
for the sins and impurities of the inmates. The 
heavy carpet was one unbroken stain of blood 
red coloring. The daylight peered through the 

65. 


66 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


rich window drapings and crimsoned the entire 
apartment with its guilty glances within. The 
exterior of the house was dull, dark and uninviting, 
but within, the glare of crimson, of dull red and 
deeper garnet, blended in every article of furniture 
and garnished walls, ceilings and windows in 
bewildering and feverish arrangement. Even the 
glasses on the small jasper table by tlje couch were 
red with the evil light of their intoxicating contents. 

The woman's dress was opened low at the throat 
and her jet black hair and clear olive skin were in 
sombre contrast to the clinging, reddish garment. 

That the man had carefully disguised both voice 
and raiment was plainly evident, but that he was 
no stranger to the house or its extraordinary 
mistress, was also a self evident fact. 

There were few who knew of this curious habi- 
tation, whose only furnishings were draperies and 
divans, small jasper tables and luxuriant couches, 
but the few who did were well content to contribute 
most generously for its maintenance, and more for 
the occupants of its numerous apartments, whose 
only glimpse of daylight was that which fell 
through the shamefaced windows and rested, like 


THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN. 6/ 

the hands of a bashful lover, upon charms, half 
strange and half familiar to his touch. 

Julia Webber the mistress of this peculiar mansion, 
bent for a moment over the silent form, then she 
raised her eyes and looked with a strange, unseeing 
expression, into the wall beyond, as was her habit 
when addressing any one. 

The voice was low and distinct, but as cold and 
unsympathetic as steel, as she said with hardly a 
movement of the lips, “Well what are your orders, 
Monsieur? ” 

The man at her side turned his eyes from the 
quiet face upon the couch and looked haughtily 
down upon her as he answered sharply, “ The 
same as usual. Why do you ask ? ” 

For an instant he caught the gleam of fire 
through her half closed, panther like eyes as she 
gave him a searching side glance to note the effect 
of her brief question. 

“ You decline my offer, then,’' she asked, even 
more coldly, more distinctly than before. 

“ What do I want with you ? ” the man exclaimed 
fiercely in excellent English. “ Have I not told 
you, Julia, that my brief enfatuation ended the hour 


68 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


that it began ? Ah, she awakes ! he exclaimed 
suddenly, and bent lower over the prostrate girl. 

Over Julia Webber s face there crept an ominous, 
ashen pallor. Her eyes blazed with the fury of a 
woman scorned, while her slender, jeweled fingers 
clutched the folds of her lurid garments with the 
grasp of a dying agony. Another moment and 
her emotions were controlled. The vindictive 
gleam in her eyes was unnoticed by the man, 
for at that moment his whole thought and atten- 
tion was given to the white robed figure. 

Stella, for it was she, opened her eyes and looked 
around the unfamiliar room in utter bewilderment. 
Then her gaze rested upon the young man’s 
face, but without a shadow of recognition in the 
face. 

With a smile of astonishing sweetness he bent 
gently over her and whispered softly, “ Do not be 
frightened, Stella. You are safe with me. Rest 
a little and I will explain all.’’ 

Then, as her eyes closed once more in response 
to the powerful drug which he had administered, 
he turned roughly upon the woman at his side 
and bade her watch and wait upon this girl, then 


THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN. 


69 


adding with a significant expression, “ I make you 
responsible for her ; I shall be back this evening ; 
he abruptly left the house. 

When the door closed upon her companion, 
Julia Webber stood beside the couch, immovable 
as marble. 

Her flowing garments slipped from her sloping 
shoulders until one half her bosom was exposed. 
The lines of her face were rigid, but the swelling 
bosom rose and fell in gasps that were almost 
convulsive. 

Hatred, envy and revenge gleamed in her scin- 
tillating eye balls while she gazed upon the pure 
and beautiful features of Stella. 

At last, through her tightly closed teeth she 
muttered, hoarsely, “ So this is why he scorns me! 
For this girl of twenty. It is not her pretty 
face or perfect form in which lies her attraction 
for Monsieur, for I am equally beautiful, but it 
is her very virtue, her purity, that draws his 
passions like a powerful magnet and holds him her 
slave until the smirch of his own contamination is 
branded on her brow. Pah 1 These inconstant 
fiends ; They mold us to their own ideals, then 


70 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


scorn the creature of their own admiring handiwork. 
But enough of this ! My revenge must be as sweet 
as my disappointment is bitter. I am mistress 
here, and perhaps my gallant Monsieur, some other 
more agreeable connoisseur may sip the dew from 
your budding rose before you again enhale its 
fragrance. 

“ Ah, Captain, you here,” she exclaimed as a 
stranger unceremoniously entered the apartment. 

How could I remain from your presence, my 
beautiful Julia?” responded the newcomer gallantly, 
then catching sight of the couch and its occupant he 
added, hastily, “ My God ! how beautiful ! who is she 
and where did you get her ?” 

“ Not so fast. Captain,” said Julia, laughing 
quietly. 

Curiously enough the handsome Captain s evi- 
dent admiration for Stella evoked no jealousy in her 
heart, but was a source of satisfaction on the 
contrary. 

Here was the opportunity for revenge on the 
man she loved, and she was not the woman to lose 
it, through any such foolish sentiment as that of 
jealousy. Revenge and love go hand in hand in 


THE SCARLET HOUSE OF SIN. 71 

such natures as Julia Webber’s. Her life had 
been one long succession of conquests, but to one 
man only had she offered constancy. 

Only those who are caught in the whirlpool of 
lascivious temptations can realize or appreciate the 
difficulty in fulfiling such a promise, but, Julia 
Webber, in spite of her evil life, was truer to a 
given word than many of her more righteous sis- 
ters. Her love had been accepted with alacrity, 
and spurned with contempt and loathing almost 
from the hour of consummation. 

Now, as this thought again flitted through her 
mind, she turned to the destingue individual by 
her side, and answered playfully, “ you know we 
tell no secrets here. Captain ; she is here, and 
here to stay, that should be sufficient. She is 
slightly indisposed just now,” she added, with a 
meaning smile, but if you wish to see her — ’’ 

I certainly do, Julia,” and he also smiled signifi- 
cantly, as he eagerly awaited her reply. 

The woman hesitated a moment, and then, 
apparently changing the subject, said archly, “ By 
the way. Captain, there is a lovely crimson, velvet 
robe in Robinson s window — ** 


72 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


“ You shall have it to-morrow, and then ?’* asked 
the Captain, anxiously — 

“ Ah, thank you, and, come in again to-morrow, 
Captain, I think I can arrange this little matter for 
you. Then she closed the door upon him, and 
again the panther-like gleam of her eye balls crept 
stealthily out between her half closed lids, but the 
smile that parted the thin red lips melted away in 
a heavy sigh, as she turned once more to look 
long and earnestly upon Stella’s sleeping face. 


CHAPTER XL 


JULIA WEBBER LAYS PLANS FOR REVENGE. 

How poor the love that blindly seeks 
To avenge the scorn its presence wakes,— 

*Tis only smarting pride that speaks 
A requiem, for its own mistakes. 

Stella remained unconscious throughout the 
night, but she was carefully watched by Julia Web- 
ber, who would allow no one to enter the room 
where she lay. 

She was bewildered and frightened when she 
awoke the next morning in such strange surround- 
ings. During the night her dress had been 
removed and she was amazed to find herself robed 
in a long, comfortable garment of soft red silk, and 
by her side a slender table with a tempting break- 
fast on a dainty silver tray awaiting her pleasure. 

When Julia Webber entered the room she went 

73 


74 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

immediately to Stella’s side and bending gracefully 
over her, touched her lips to Stella s brow, saying 
with the sweetest of smiles, “ my dear child, I 
am so glad you are feeling better. I beg of you not 
to talk or distress yourself by fears regarding your 
safety, for I have already notified your friends of 
your whereabouts and you may be sure I will take 
the best of care of you until they arrive.” 

This falsehood fell so smoothly from the woman s 
lips that Stella, innocent and unsuspicious, actually 
smiled up into the lying face and whispered grate- 
fully, “ I know you will, my dear Madam, and I 
shall trust you implicitly. I cannot understand 
what has happened but I throw myself wholly 
upon your mercy and protection, and I know that 
I shall be safe in your hands.” 

Julia Webber’s face was turned from the couch 
as she answered in a strange unnatural voice, Try 
and sleep now and I will come in again soon,” and 
as Stella obediently closed her eyes she went 
hurriedly from the room. 

Although far better acquainted with her own 
remarkable nature than are mortals ordinarily, still 
Julia Webber could hardly understand her own 


JULIA WEBBER LAYS PLANS FOR REVENGE. 75 

emotions at this instant. Was it possible that she 
was considering for a moment a withdrawal of her 
schemes for revenge ? She had promised this girl 
protection just as she had promised scores before, 
but the word protection had suddenly assumed a 
new definition in her mind. Hitherto it had simply 
signified safety from personal violence, from star- 
vation or physical discomfort. Now it was suddenly 
assuming a new condition, — safety for chastity and 
virtue. Had she promised this ? No ! That was 
purely a personal matter, and what was more, she 
only allowed the temptation, she insisted upon no- 
thing. But then, again, her methods admitted 
of no alternative. Her guests, as she had told 
the Captain, came to stay,’ and time, tempta- 
tion and constant warfare will win the bravest 
battle and conquer the most stubborn resistance. 

Communing thus, she again returned to Stella s 
room and, standing silently by the couch, looked 
earnestly upon the girlish face. 

Shouts of coarse laughter and snatches of care- 
less song, together with the chink of glasses, reached 
her ear at intervals as she stood immovable in 
the quiet room, and involuntarily, with minute 


76 DEATH TO THE INQUIStrYV^:. 

distinctness, the details of other admissions to her 
household were paraded slowly before her mental 
vision. She recalled the innocence of those rioting 
voices when they first fell upon her ear, — in nearly 
every instance uttering a prayer for their speedy 
return to home and loved ones, or casting them- 
selves in supplicating despair upon her mercy. 
Her brain was filled to bursting with questions 
before unanswered, with possibilities before uncon- 
sidered, and moments sped rapidly by while she 
remained, mute and motionless, by the sleeping 
girl. Not a quiver of the eyelids betrayed the 
storm that was raging in her breast, but after a 
time she turned and walked noiselessly from the 
room. 

She had decided, — and with Julia Webber to 
decide meant to act. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A SINFUL LOVE. 

So closely love and passion blend — 

Their limits we can not define — 

One hardly knows they’ve reached the end 
Until they’ve passed beyond the line. 

To Mrs. Sinclair, Stella was lost indeed. 
Almost insane with grief, the good woman placed 
the matter in the competent hands of Scotland 
Yard, and closing her house to all visitors, gave 
herself up to a grief more bitter far than that which 
would be felt at death itself. She had at last dis- 
covered beyond dispute that her son had frequented 
the clubs and theatres of London for a year past, 
under different names and often in the company of 
a young girl, who, although evidently from the 
middle classes, was still sufficiently beautiful to 
attract the attention of casual observers and win 
the attention and preference of one so (presum- 
ably) fastidious as Maurice Sinclair. 


77 


78 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

This girl, she also learned, lived quietly with her 
grandparents on G — St, and was in all respects a 
most estimable young woman. Obtaining this 
information some two months After the disappear- 
ance of Maurice and Stella, Mrs. Sinclair went in 
person to the address given to ascertain, if possi- 
ble, some further facts regarding her son’s 
unrighteous past. 

The house in G — St. looked deserted when 
Mrs. Sinclair’s carriage stopped before its unpre- 
tending portals, but she was promptly admitted by 
a neat maid servant, to the presence of Elizabeth’s 
aged grandparents. She found them mourning in 
pitiful grief the loss of their idolized grandchild, 
who they said had, according to newspaper accounts, 
committed suicide by jumping from the London 
Bridge on the very date corresponding to 
Maurice s appearance at his mother^s home . They 
had identified the shawl which she had dropped 
from her shoulders, before taking the awful plunge 
into the river, and that was the only proof they 
had ever received, that their dear one’s fate was 
the sleep that knows no waking. 

Finding in Mrs. Sinclair a tearful, sympathetic 


A SINFUL LOVE. 


79 


listener, they gladly told her of Elizabeth s quiet, 
happy life with them ; of her beauty and virtue, 
and from this emanated the story of Lawrence 
Maynard, the young lodger, and their belief that 
it was her unrequited love for him that drove her 
to the fatal act. 

The young man was clever and handsome, the 
aged woman said. He wore a close cropped 
auburn beard, biit his hair grew long, and lay in 
large, loose curls upon his forehead. He seemed 
quiet and steady, and seldom remained away from 
his rooms at night, particularly, after his apparent 
fondness for Elizabeth had been observed by them. 
No one had ever called upon him except a queer 
Chinese peddler who, he said, brought him rare 
and expensive substances for his chemical experi- 
ments. Between this man and himself, there was 
evidently a most satisfactory understanding. 
They had met first in China, and Elizabeth fre- 
quently stood and listened to their comical gibber- 
ish, while the Mongolian s beady eyes watched her 
with never failing interest. 

There were times even when she fancied he looked 
anxiously at her, and once, when Mr. Maynard 


8o 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


was absent, he tried with poor success to tell her 
something, but what that mysterious something 
was she could never ascertain. 

Mr. Maynard had frequently warned them all 
against touching any of the test tubes, flasks, 
retorts and crucibles in his room, but evening after 
evening he called Elizabeth to watch the changing 
colors in the delicate fluids, or the crystillization of 
rare substances while he instructed her, so they 
honestly supposed, by many scientific and wonder- 
ful experiments. 

This was all Mrs. Sinclair could learn from the 
aged mourners, and weary at heart she returned 
once more to her now cheerless home. She felt cer- 
tain that this Lawrence Maynard and her son were 
one and the same person, but little did she dream 
of the actual facts that remained untold in the 
aged woman s innocent recital. 

It was in this cleverly improvised laboratory that 
Elizabeth Merril, unknown to her feeble grand- 
parents, passed the few deliriously happy hours of 
her otherwise unromantic life. She had entered 
in the full possession of her womanly dignity and 
virtue, only to become faint from the exhalations 


A SINFUL LOVE. 


Si 


of tempting perfumes and intoxicated by the fasci- 
nations of the tempter s smile and passionate plead- 
ings. Long and fiercely she struggled with her 
new born passion, but her lover s first, warm kiss 
drew her very heart from her bosom and almost 
insane with love and fear she twined her white arms 
around his neck and pleaded for his dear protection. 

At last, in a moment of reckless passion, he con- 
sented to a private marriage only insisting on con- 
cealment of the same until he should give her per- 
mission to announce it. 

A private marriage is but a '’compromise with 
virtue in every instance, but Elizabeth was young 
and inexperienced. 

She trusted her lover implicitly, and although 
the affair was not as she in her girlish fancies 
desired, still it was a bondage of love and she 
would willingly have submitted to its chains until 
death if her lover had so commanded. 

It was only the insurmountable difficulty of her 
condition that at last counteracted the mental and 
moral poison of his presence and broke completely 
the spell that his impassioned caresses had thrown 
so fatally about her. 


82 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


When the truth burst upon her that concealment 
was no longer possible, she fled to his apartments 
and fell on her knees before him, 

Oh, Lawrie, Lawrie, ” she sobbed, You must 
tell Grandma of our marriage, you must, or I am 
ruined and she wept as if her heart would break. 

Then an awful fear seized upon her as she 
noticed the stern, defiant look that crept into his 
face at her words. 

‘‘Get up Lizzie” he answered, brutally. “You 
should have thought of this before. There,” he 
exclaimed, throwing a paper at her feet, “ there is 
your Marriage Certificate. It is false every word 
of it ; our marriage was a mockery from beginning 
to end. Show the paper to your grandparents 
and clear yourself if you can, — I can do nothing 
for you.” 

White as death, Elizabeth staggered slowly to 
her feet, but no word escaped her lips. 

For a moment man and woman looked into each 
other s eyes, then with a mocking smile Lawrence 
Maynard, her lover, her idol, her perjured husband, 
passed rapidly from the room. 

Like one in a dream she bent and raised the 


A SINFUL LOVE. 


83 


paper from the ground, then with head erect and 
steady step she walked to her own small room and 
locking the door behind her, fell heavily upon the 
bed with the lying certificate clasped closely in her 
rigid hand. She awoke to the realization that he 
had wronged her, and before she could fairly endure 
that knowledge she realized that he had also 
deserted her, and from that time forth her misery 
was complete. Too proud to tell her weakness 
now in the hour of shame, she reasoned that death 
alone would erase the stain upon her character, and 
with this sole purpose forming in her half crazed 
brain she fled to the sluggish river and took the 
frightful plunge into its awful depths. 

The fate of her supposed suicide had been chron- 
icled, first by the descriptive reports of the bridge 
officers, at their respective stations, and secondly 
by the busy newspaper scribes who haunt police 
stations for the necessary matter to fill their allotted 
space in the columns of the various dailies. 

Elizabeth, holding her babe on her arm, read the 
report of her supposed entrance to the great 
unknown world, on the very night of Mrs. Sinclair s 
visit to her grandparents and her own discharge 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


irom the Hospital, and smiling bitterly, she mut- 
tered to herself, “ Yes, that is true. I am dead, 
dead and buried. Now nothing remains but the 
walking ghost of Lizzie Merril and ” — here she 
looked sadly down upon the face of the sleeping 
child and added, the mother of this innocent babe.” 
Then she wrapped the shawl a nurse had given 
her, closer around the infant and hurried onward 
through the gloomy night: — whither she did not 
know. 

Almost at that moment a young man turned 
the corner of the street and brushed past her, so 
near that his arm accidentally touched her shoulder. 
For a moment she stood perfectly still, then with 
a piercing cry, woman and child fell heavily forward 
and were caught in Maurice Sinclair’s arms. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE CONTRACT BROKEN. 

The weapon tempts her — see — she feels its edge — 

Then breaks the contract — and returns the pledge. 

The man whom Julia Webber addressed by the 
French appellation, Monsieur, returned that even- 
ing, true to his word. He was received with 
smiles by the mistress of the house, who told him, 
in all sincerity, of Stella s still unconscious condition, 
and urged him to wait a little before presenting 
himself to the bewildered girl. Steeped in the 
ways of evil and deceit as he was, still he discov- 
ered no treachery in Julia Webber's words, and 
departed somewhat reluctantly, but in perfect faith 
as to his ultimate success. 

Julia Webber’s desire for revenge was being 
fulfilled almost upon the hour of its conception. 

85 


86 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


It was now nearly noon of the day following 
Stella’s entrance to her house, and yet the fascina- 
tion of her new guest’s presence was still strong 
upon her She had decided upon her course of 
action during that period of outward calm and 
inward perturbation, while she stood beside the 
sleeper’s unconscious form. 

The silver clock in her private dressing-room 
was still tinkling the hour of noon when a maid 
entered and handed her a large parcel which had 
just arrived 

‘‘Wait a moment, Jennie,” her mistress said, 
and the extremely attractive maid, nothing loth to 
view the contents of the box, waited while the 
wrappings were removed and the magnificent robe 
of crimson velvet held admiringly to the light. 

“Ask the young ladies to come in,” was the 
next extraordinary command, and while she 
donned the exquisite garment, some seven or eight 
young women, strikingly beautiful in face and 
figure, filed noisily into the room, and threw them- 
selves in graceful, negligent positions, upon the 
numerous couches and divans. 

The robe was beautiful, and fitted her voluptu- 


THE CONTRACT BROKEN. 


87 


ous form to perfection. After it had been duly 
admired and removed, the enthusiastic young 
women were horrified to see Julia Webber hold it 
from her at arms length while she lighted in succes- 
sion a half dozen waxen matches and applied them 
in spots to the costly fabric. The velvet writhed 
and twisted, beneath the flame-like human flesh, 
whilst almost suffocating fumes pervaded every inch 
of the apartment. She held it thus in her hands, 
until it was completely ruined, leaving only enough 
uninjured, to show the original shape and beauty, 
then refolding it as best she could, she tied the 
wrappings again with her own hands and writing 
in.' large, clear letters across the package, “ The 
Pledge of a Broken Contract,” ordered her maid 
to return it at once, to Captain Carlisle, Hotel 
Victoria. Then she dismissed the wondering 
women and went once more to the room that had 
become so strangely interesting. 

A moment later she stood beside the couch 
holding in her hand a cluster of delicious grapes, 
while Stella listened and ate with the expression 
of bewilderment gradually fading from her features. 
“I wish you would tell me of yourself, freely 


88 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


and unreservedly/' Julia Webber said, and Stella, 
realizing at last some degree of truth regarding 
this woman and her surroundings, was clever 
enough to know that innocence and helplessness 
were by far the best weapons with which to fight 
her cause. 

In treachery and deceit, Stella was little versed, 
but as an intelligent and observing member of 
society, she knew only too well that they existed, 
and feeling altogether unequal to such a combat, 
she chose ignorance as the surest safeguard from 
further trouble. 

It was Julia Webbers request, that she would 
not ask to leave this particular apartment, that 
first opened her eyes to the nature of her sur- 
roundings. She shuddered involuntarily as the 
knowledge forced itself upon her, but she noted, 
sadly, that in spite of that promise, the key was 
softly turned on the outside whenever her hostess 
left the room. 

After a little thought, Stella concluded to tell 
her name, and the circumstances of her abduction 
as nearly as she could recall them, but it was only 
when she identified her abductor as Maurice Sin- 


THE CONTRACT BROKEN. 


clair, and mentioned her relations towards himself 
and his lovely mother, that Julia Webber s face in 
any way betrayed her interest in the narrative. 

“You say that you reside in this Maurice Sin- 
clair’s home,” she repeated, excitedly. 

“ Yes,’^ Stella answered. 

“ And he will inherit great wealth, unless you 
stand between him and his mother’s affection, I 
infer,” she continued more quietly. 

“ Ah, I had not thought of that,” exclaimed 
Stella suddenly. “You must be right, that only 
could have been his motive for this awful deed. 
But I fear, so great is her love for me, that his 
plans will fail, unless I am safely restored to her.” 

“ You shall return in safety,” was the decided 
answer, while her listener’s eyes blazed with the 
excitement of a new ambition. Here was her 
chance, and almost instantly her mode of action 
was decided. She had become sick and weary of 
her sinful life ever since that strange infatuation 
sprang up within her heart, and for one man’s 
honest love, she would gladly have forsworn the 
admiration and homage of the world, but too late, 
she realized that man would never credit such as 


90 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


she, with honest love, and the scorn her tender 
sentiments evoked, filled her whole soul with bit- 
terness and longing for revenge. 

Now, through Stella’s innocent and unsuspecting 
friendship, she felt the way was open for a more 
subtle and satisfying vengeance, and subduing her 
excitement with marvelous control, she continued 
seriously, “ Miss Sinclair, the subject of my life 
and surroundings is not one that I should broach 
to you, but you have given me your confidence in 
a measure, and, believe me, you shall never regret 
it. Now it may be a bold thing for me to do, but 
I am going to ask you a question, and upon your 
answer will depend much more than you imagine. 
Have I your permission ?” 

“ Certainly,” was Stella’s wondering reply. 

“I wish to ask. Miss Sinclair, if I were to leave 
this place ; abandon the life that I have led for ten 
years past and obey in future every regulation and 
restriction of respectable society, would you call me 
your friend and allow me to visit you at your 
home?” 

For a moment only, Stella hesitated, then holding 
put her hand to this extraordinary woman, she 


THE CONTRACT BROKEN. 


91 


responded sincerely, forgive me for thinking of 
myself, but come with me from this terrible place 
and so long as your conscience can honestly claim 
my sisterly regard, it shall be yours.” 

The tears trembled on her long, dark lashes as 
she raised her eyes to Julia s face, but at that instant 
a rap sounded on the outer door and without reply- 
ing, her companion rose and passed swiftly out 
into the hall. 

The man whom she had known for several 
months only as “ Monsieur ” was standing in the 
wide, crimson draped hall, but the hangings were 
so thick that it was impossible to have overheard 
the conversation that had been carried on in low 
tones between the two. 

Placing her hand upon his arm, Julia Webber 
led him without a word into the spacious parlor 
which was also draped, even more luxuriously than 
the other apartments, in costly fabrics of vivid 
scarlet. 

Here she paused before him, looking into his 
eyes with orbs that blazed with anger, and through 
her tight drawn lips she fairly hissed the words, 
** Maurice Sinclair, your adopted sister has told 


92 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


me all. This is my house and beneath its roof 
you and she will never meet again.” 

Then, while he stood apparently amused at this 
new freak of a peculiar woman, she moved to a 
dainty desk, and filling out a check for many thou- 
sand pounds, signed it, and once more stepping 
before him, thrust it into his hand, saying calmly, 
“ there is the amount which I have received from 
you. Now, go! and believe me, if you escape 
punishment at all other hands for your cowardly 
sins, the revenge of a woman’s scorned devotion 
will at some time find you out.” 

Then, before he could utter a word of protest or 
amazement, he was left alone in the fiery glow of 
the blood-red parlor. He looked mechanically at 
the paper in his hand, tore it in half, and dropping 
it upon the rug at his feet, turned like one in a 
trance, and slowly left the house. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

IN CENTRAL PARK. 

This life is a Drama, its Plot strange and deep — 

We laugh at the Farce — at the Tragedy, weep : — 

The acts are surprises — no waits intervene 
And only the Author stands back of the scene. 

For two months Sir Frederic Atherton had 
hardly eaten or slept, so great was his grief at 
Stella’s disappearance. No stone had been left 
unturned by him in the search for Maurice Sin- 
clair and his beautiful victim. 

No shadow of doubt as to Stella’s unspotted 
purity, crossed his noble soul, and in despair he sat 
down to a hasty breakfast at the Club, while he 
ransacked his brain to find, if possible, some untried 
scheme for Maurice's capture. 

His eyes roved absently about the richly 
appointed place, and almost instantly, associated in 
his mind with these very surroundings, came the 

93 


94 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


recollection of a former breakfast, at the same' 
place some months previous. 

He was breakfasting with a friend who had just 
returned from America, and in relating the news 
of their mutual acquaintances, mentioned the 
approaching reception of Mrs. Sinclair’s adopted 
daughter. 

Almost simultaneous with the mention of her 
name, a young man rose from another table and 
took a seat nearer the ones occupied by his friend 
and himself. 

The young man was slight, but athlete in build, 
and his face, although dark and sunburned, would 
have been extremely pleasing, but for a suspic- 
iously unnatural moustache, that drooped heavily 
over his mouth, completely hiding that feature and 
thereby seriously injuring the amiability of his 
expression. 

The young man was evidently interested in their 
conversation, but Sir Frederic at the time gave it 
little thought, and the matter slipped from his 
mind a moment after. The occurrence returning to 
his memory so vividly at just this time, impressed 
him strangely. 


IN CENTRAL PARK. 


95 


Could this young man have been Maurice Sin- 
clair, disguised and under an assumed name, mas- 
querading about London, in search of information 
regarding his mother s household before returning 
thereto ? 

Then another idea, relative to the flight of 
Maurice and Stella, occurred to him, and suddenly 
springing to his feet he exclaimed excitedly, “ I’ll 
try it. It can do no harm.” A week later he 
embarked incog, on a transatlantic steamer bound 
for New York. 

Something seemed to tell him that Maurice Sin- 
clair, hunted as he was by every police officer and 
detective in London, was sure, sooner or later, to 
fly to America for protection. Of course, the 
usual information had been cabled to American 
ports, but detection could be so easily avoided, 
that Sir Frederic felt that Maurice would take the 
risk as a choice between two evils. Then again 
he reasoned, that a man familiar, as Maurice was, 
with the ports of Hong Kong and Calcutta (and 
his blood ran cold at the very thought), would 
naturally return thereto if circumstances forced his 
departure from London. But obeying the whisper 


96 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

that had so plainly suggested America to his mind, 
he found himself, after a rapid passage, safely 
landed in New York, and shortly after, comfortably 
situated in the Brunswick, one of its most spacious 
hotels. 

To a man like Sir Frederic, the encumbrance 
of an assumed name was a never ceasing annoyance. 
His was a nature wholly antagonistic to deception 
of any sort, but he knew that in this manner only 
could he outwit so clever a rascal as the one he was 
pursuing. 

Fortunately, he found one true and tried friend 
before he had been in the city long, and together 
they worked and waited for clues that should lead 
to his loved one’s speedy recovery. Weeks went 
by while he patiently searched, and four months 
after the disappearance of Stella, Sir Frederic, dis- 
gusted with his foolish chase across the water, was 
sadly preparing to return. On the last Sunday 
afternoon of his stay he went with his friend for 
a farewell drive through the magnificent boulevards 
of Central Park. 

The day was perfect, and carriages ot every 
description, from the private liveried turnout to 


IN CENTRAL PARK. 


97 


the hired cab and rustic country wagon, were 
ambling along, filled with men, women and chil- 
dren, all bent on securing as much pure air and 
sunshine as was obtainable during the short after- 
noon. Suddenly, at a sharp turn of the carriage- 
road, the vehicle containing the two men came 
side to side with a light phaeton, whose diminutive 
pony was ably guided by an extremely stylish 
young lady, and there, sitting by her side in evi- 
dent favor, was the man for whom Sir Frederic 
was searching and for whose apprehension all 
London was desirous. 


CHAPTER XV. 


DEATH, 

Death overtakes us, one and all — 

Oft times when life is at its best: 

Before its fatal blade we fall 
To deep and never ending, rest. 

The two men recognized each other instantly, 
for Maurice, in his fancied security, had neglected 
the habitual disguise. 

Quick as flash he snatched the lines from his 
companion’s hands and struck the spirited pony a 
sharp blow with the slender whip. 

Moments elapsed, however, before Sir Frederic 
could explain the situation to his friend and their 
stupid driver. Vehicles were constantly passing 
and when they were finally in readiness to pursue, 
the pony phaeton had vanished. 

The necessary papers were secured after much 

98 


DEATH. 


99 


trouble and expense and a description of Maurice 
Sinclair, as he now appeared, furnished the 
Detective Bureau, but all to no purpose. Maurice 
had again evaded capture. 

The lady was readily found in one of the most 
fashionable homes on Fifth Avenue, but her infor- 
mation was limited. She denied that her compan- 
ion was Maurice Sinclair, but that was of little 
consequence as it was more than probable he had 
adhered to the precaution of an assumed name, if 
nothing more.- 

For fear of further publicity, the parents of the 
young lady removed her promptly from the city, 
and another two months passed while Chicago, St. 
Louis and even the Pacific slope were thoroughly 
searched for the missing man. 

At the end of that time Sir Frederic was forced 
to return to London by family matters and the 
search for his loved one was extended at every 
spare moment of his time. 

Meanwhile, Stella was still a prisoner in that 
quiet house with its scarlet furnishings. In the 
entire time of her confinement she had never 
passed the threshold of her door or seen the faces 


100 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


of the Other inmates whose voices reached her so 
indistinctly through the heavy hangings. 

Julia Webber gave her every care and attention, 
but every entreaty for liberty was met with the 
same gentle but decided answer, “ Wait, Miss 
Sinclair, — You and I will leave this place together, 
but my house must be empty, first.” 

Tired of questions that received no answers and 
prayers that were unavailing, Stella waited 
patiently and sadly for the hour of her release. 

At last it came. 

Julia Webber entered her room just at dusk one 
cold, foggy day and seating herself by her side, said 
seriously, Miss Sinclair,! shall take you home to- 
night. We are alone now and I can close the house 
forever. Do not be surprised at my change in cos- 
tume when I leave this place for it will never do for 
you to be seen in public with such as I. Y our honor 
has been saved, now you must let me guard 
appearances as well.” 

Leaving Stella overcome with gratitude and 
happiness she left the room and going at once to 
her own boudoir, selected the poorest and plainest 
of her clothing and dressed herself modestly in a 


DEATH. 


lOI 


quiet grey gown, laying out at the same time 
another unassuming but far more costly robe for 
Stella’s use. This she took to Stella’s room. 

After Stella was dressed for her long anticipated 
journey, she waited quietly in the spacious parlor 
while. Julia Webber passed, for the last time, 
through the apartments of this magnificent, but 
extraordinary abode. 

Everything was in perfect order. 

Opening a secret drawer in her dressing-case, 
she took therefrom a folded paper and thrust it 
carelessly into a small leather bag that was sus- 
pended from her waist by a delicate silver chain. 

Her money and jewels had been safely placed in 
the Bank some days before, and now she opened 
the wardrobe door and glanced curiously at the 
row of silken and velvet gowns, all costly and 
elaborately made, but each of some startling shade 
of lurid red. 

For a moment only, she hesitated, then she 
closed and locked the door, turning her back reso- 
lutely upon it while she muttered bitterly, “ I am 
done forever with that cursed color. What care I 
for man’s homage, while my heart is breaking with 


102 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


the shame of unrequited love ?” Then, as her eyes 
roved restlessly about the rooms, old associations 
arose within her, and obeying a sudden impulse of 
her reckless nature, she again had recourse to the 
waxen matches. This time it was the heavy hang- 
ings that she touched with the blazing tapers, and 
when she felt confident that the deed was safely 
done, she closed the door behind her and return- 
ing to Stella with a curious smile upon her lips, 
led her hastily from the house without a backward 
glance. 

Let us walk a little,’' she said to Stella. It 
will do you good and we can take a hansom at the 
square,” and so saying the two women walked 
rapidly along the foggy street while Stella’s heart 
beat joyfully with this long desired accession to 
liberty and friends. 

They had only gone a few blocks when an 
engine dashed wildly past them, its bell clanging 
frightfully, while the cry of fire ” was echoed 
frantically from every side. 

Julia Webber smiled sadly and hurried on, almost 
dragging Stella in her haste to leave the excite- 
ment of whose origin she alone was cognizant, but 


DEATH. 


103 


as they rushed thus heedlessly, across the slippery 
street, a span of powerful black horses, frenzied by 
the clanging bell, rushed upon them in the dark- 
ness, and before the sturdy driver could control 
their maddened fury, both women were lying pros- 
trate beneath the heavy hoofs. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 

How grandly beautiful the scene 
Where ocean wrestles with its prey ; — 

The rugged rocks all fringed with green — 

The iceberg glittering and serene — 

And ocean, wearing both, away. 

Away up on the northern coast of Newfound- 
land, in the month of September, a group of plea- 
sure seeking tourists were idly lounging about a 
roaring fire, smoking and telling pleasing stories, 
while the aroma of good coffee, and an occasional 
whiff of savory venison steak wetted their appe- 
tites, and made them well pleased with themselves, 
the world in general and Newfoundland in particu- 
lar. Only a short distance across the water they 
could see the smoke from the mining village of 
Pilley’s Island, and hear the shrill whistle that 

104 


A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 10$ 

called the swarthy miners to and from their labors 
in the cavernous drifts of an enormous mine of 
iron ore." 

Sharks swam recklessly near their anchored 
craft, and seals protruded their shiny heads within 
easy vision. 

Three pairs of enormous antlers spoke of their 
two days’ sport, thus far, and enthusiasm was at its 
wildest among the merry hunters. 

Only one man of the six who composed the 
party, seemed indifferent to the wild, untrammeled 
country ; the possibilities of boundless wealth in 
the forbidden rocks, and the abundance of trout, 
seals, otter and deer that was to be had with little 
labor. 

This man was Maurice Sinclair. 

He had left London to save his liberty ; — he 
had fled from New York on this pretext of plea- 
sure for the same purpose, and now, while the 
others planned with great volubility the modus 
operandi of the day’s sport, he was moodily think- 
ing of the possibilities of life for him in the wilds 
of this half explored country. 

Mining villages he dreaded, inasmuch as there 


I06 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

was always danger of encountering some delegate 
from civilization — as the mining fraternity are of a 
nomadic tendency — and there was also the fear of 
the periodical steamer that conveyed the products 
of their labor to the States or Canadian markets. 
True, his sin had been that of abduction only, so 
far as the world knew, but a guilty conscience 
needs no accusing," and Maurice Sinclair, although 
cleverly disguised, lived in daily fear of another 
and a worse crime being laid at his sinful door. 

Under such mental strain it was not unnatural 
that the wondrous handiwork of nature, and the 
limitless possibilities for human advancement in 
this grandly beautiful region failed to excite his 
admiration or interest. The beauty of landscape ; 
the sublimity of sky and ocean, inspired no senti- 
ments of awe or appreciation in his debased and 
guilty soul. 

At last all was in readiness for the anticipated 
sail up the picturesque bays, and Tommy Tully, a 
native hunter, whose services they had secured as 
guide and general entertainer, tapped him lightly 
on the arm while he stared with undisguised 
astonishment at so unenthusiastic a sportsman. 


A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 10/ 

be your turn to-day, Sir,’' Tommy was say- 
ing, and taking the extended rifle, Maurice sprang 
lightly into the boat and with a smile accepted his 
position of honor in the prow. 

According to Newfoundland game laws each 
stranger was allowed to shoot eight deer for the 
trifling sum of two hundred dollars, and as this 
amount, per capitay had been conscientiously paid 
down at the Crown Office in St. Johns, each 
sportsman took his turn at whatever game pre- 
sented itself. 

Tommy Tully was in himself a character typical 
of Newfoundlands choicest hunters. Tommy’s 
experience dated back to the days when coraling 
deer was no ususual circumstance, and Tommy, in 
his own peculiar dialect, told them of once meet- 
ing an unusually large Buck, face to face, in a wood- 
land path, unarmed and unexpectedly. 

“He were too skeert to run an’ so were I,” said 
Tommy in conclusion. Knowing the Newfound- 
lander s adherence to superstitious faiths, the young 
men asked him with all gravity to relate some of 
the time honored traditions and prevailing beliefs 
regarding the uncanny “ Fetch ” and his nocturnal 


I08 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

antics, and Tommy, nothing loth, regaled them 
with blood curdling recitals of white robed 
figures, half fish, half Human, that skimmed the 
surface of the bay at midnight, searching with 
spirit lanterns for belated victims, and dropping his 
voice to a husky whisper, he continued, “jest over 
dis very spot. Sir, one night last summer, I stopped 
rowin' fer a bit to light my pipe and somet’in’ riz 
my feet right up an’ turned me dare roun’ in de 
punt, jest hind side afore. Sir, never knowed what 
did it.” 

Just at that instant Tommy’s eyes, which had, 
all through his narrative, been carefully scanning 
the opposite bank, glowed with excitement : His 
nostrils quivered and expanded like those of a 
keen scented animal, while with hardly a percepti- 
ble movement of the body he slackened the speed 
of the dainty craft, and then in a short, sharp, but 
carefully modulated voice, exclaimed “ See him ? 
Straight ahead, — Now! Fire! But no report 
followed the order. 

The huge antlers of the deer that had been 
plainly seen protruding from the dense thicket on 
the neighboring bank, trembled for a second as if 


A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 100 

their owner was undecided what course to pursue, 
then suddenly disappeared, and only the sound of 
crackling underbrush told of his enormous bounds 
through the apparently impenetrable forest. 

The young men looked savagely at Maurice, as 
by an effort he threw off the spell that so com- 
pletely enthralled him, and laughing pleasantly he 
passed the rifle to the next in turn, saying brightly, 
“ Don’t scold. Boys. The truth is, that fellow 
rattled me. I’ve lost my turn.” 

“ And we’ve lost our supper, perhaps,” they 
growled, rather savagely. But another look at 
Tommy’s face silenced them. 

Every muscle was alert with expectancy. 

With skilful hand he guided the boat along, 
through narrow passes and wider openings, scan- 
ning the overgrown bank, and soon again his low 
toned order sent the excited blood tingling through 
their veins. “ Now ! Fire !” 

This time a shot rang out sharp and clear upon 
the frosty air. A crash was heard in the thicket 
and rapidly bringing the boat as near an open 
space in the bank as possible. Tommy sprang 
ashore and dragged to the water’s edge the most 


no 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


magnificent specimen of Caribeau they had thus 
far encountered. 

“ I knowed he’d hanker fer anudder look at us,” 
muttered Tommy, gleefully. “ Dere’s a lot of 
springs in dem bushes and dose boys always knows 
where dere’s good water.” 

Having acquired much expertness in their 
previous experiences, the post mortem operations 
were rapidly performed, and stowing away the 
desirable portions of the carcass in the “ cuddy ” the 
young men, now in thoroughly jovial mood, pro- 
ceeded on their delightful excursion. 

The obliging manner in which that particular deer 
had walked into rifle range was being joyfully 
discussed when an exclamation of delight broke 
from the lips of one of their number. 

They were just crossing “ Long Tickle,” a narrow 
passage between two enormous hills of stone, and 
gazing outward the blue waters of the mighty 
ocean caught the eye, while far away on the very 
horizon there arose, seemingly to the azure 
heavens, a gigantic pyramid of ice, dazzling in its 
whiteness and reflecting with a thousand rays the 
glory of the morning sun. 


A DEER HUNT IN NEWFOUNDLAND. 


Ill 


The young men shivered involuntarily and drew 
their hunting jackets closer about them. They 
understood now the source of frosty breezes in the 
midst of genial sunlight and verdant foliage. 

At “ Hall’s Bay Head a wider glimpse of ocean 
was obtained, and Tommy noted with careful eye 
the “ set ” of the restless currents, while he told 
them of many instances where miners, rowing to 
their homes from the distant mining villages, had 
been caught in the treacherous tides at this place 
and carried far out to certain death upon the ocean, 
while the lights from their cottage homes were 
plainly visible on the rocky shore. 


CHAPTER XVIL 

BY THE ASHES OF A GUILTY HOUSE. 

The voiceless ashes speak no word. 

From the ruined walls no sound is heard. 

But a cry of terror is in his ears, 

And, lo, the ghost of his sin appears. 

Restless and ill at ease, Maurice proved but a 
poor companion for those fun loving tourists. They 
had invited him, a chance acquaintance, on the 
strength of his gentlemanly exterior and genial 
bearing, but the change in his manner after they 
were fairly off, not only disappointed them, but in 
great measure dampened the ardor of what would 
otherwise have been a joyfully, hilarious party. 

Therefore, it was with a feeling of positive relief 
that the unsuspecting youths saw him embark a 
little later, via Halifax, for his native shore. 

They had visited the quaint little ports of 
itz 


BY THE ASHES OF A GUILTY HOUSL. 11^ 

Carbonear and Harbor Grace ; crossed the turbulent 
waters of the Gulf, and after a brief stop at Prince 
Edward’s Island continued their quest for pleasure 
through that most picturesque of all sections, the 
Brasd’or Lakes and Historic Arcadia, where the 
original home of Evangeline was pointed out to 
them by the ever patriotic natives. 

Yet the oppression of an opposing influence was 
upon them and although Maurice’s was but the sin 
of taciturnity and indifference, still it clouded their 
perfect enjoyment and threw a feeling of restraint 
over all their merriment. 

For how can one be gay and joyful when one s 
companions are seemingly prostrate beneath the 
weight of unspoken anxieties ? 

It was a risky thing to do, to walk almost into 
the trap as Maurice was doing, but his was a 
nature that courted dangers and risks, a brief sea- 
son of caution was always followed by some deed 
of extraordinary daring. Still, in this instance, 
Maurice had laid his plans with more than ordinary 
precaution. 

' It was now nearly eight months since the 
abduction, and Maurice knew well that even crime 


1 14 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


received but a brief share of attention in so vice 
laden a city as London. Nevertheless, he landed 
at Queenstown, and spent some time wandering 
about Ireland before he dared to brave the scru- 
tiny of the lynx-eyed Scotland Yard detectives. 

His first step on leaving Queenstown, was to 
secure a suitable disguise, and as his skin was 
tanned by exposure, and he now wore a heavy 
beard in place of the well shaven chin, he felt that 
he had little to fear. He reached London early in 
the evening, and proceeded at once to secure 
modest quarters in a quiet street. 

From thence he sauntered out and was soon 
rattling over the stones in a hired hansom on his 
way to the well remembered house in Surrey. 
Whether he expected to find Stella and Julia still 
there, would be hard to guess, for his was a nature 
uninfluenced by surprises, but when he found, 
instead of the dark, unassuming house, nothing 
but a hideous pile of burnt and blackened timbers, 
a look of consternation did show itself upon his 
usually unruffled features. 

What had been the fate of the beautiful girl 
whom he had left in perfect health and strength 


BY THE ASHES OF A GtJILTV HOUSE. II5 

within these walls ? Had she escaped, or were her 
ashes now mingling with the gruesome mass upon 
which the moon was casting such a melancholy 
light ? He hardly knew what had prompted him 
to take this dismal drive, for he had not even 
dreamed of again entering Julia Webbers door. 
He knew, too well, that crimes committed beneath 
her roof were never allowed further circulation, 
and within Julia Webber s veins ran the blood of 
that hot-headed nation, where the Vendetta is 
perpetuated with true, religious zeal. 

No, he had not dreamed of entering those for- 
bidden precincts, and now, contempt for his own 
morbid curiosity filled his mind, and with a hasty 
order to the driver, he sank back once more upon 
the [cushions of the comfortable conveyance. 

Back to London he drove, looking out idly over 
the water as he crossed the bridge, but little 
dreaming that but for accidental aid, a human 
being would now be sleeping in the cold embrace 
of the sluggish river, and that crime, like many 
others, would be charged to his account in the day 
of divine reckoning. It is probable that if he had 
known and fully realized that fact, its realization 


il6 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

would have made his expression none the less con- 
fident, or his indifference to his ultimate fate no 
whit less thorough. 

Men like Maurice Sinclair, who chance the 
gravest issues of life, are more than glad to “ trust 
to luck their final venture into the great unknown, 
and the “ fear and trembling ” with which we 
are told “ each to work out his own salvation,” 
are conditions totally unknown to natures like 
theirs. 

If he argued the matter at all, it was merely to 
say that the power that created the “ inclinations 
of a man's heart evil from his youth ” was also the 
power upon which all responsibility consequent 
upon those evil inclinations, should rest. Probably, 
he added, moreover, that a power capable of 
implanting evil in the heart of man could as readily 
have sown the seeds of good, and if evil was the 
seed, evil must have been the harvest sought. 
Thus, leaving out the human labor decreed for the 
gaining of salvations, he, like many others, shifted 
all responsibility and the possibilities of a mistaken 
theory never occurred to him. 

He had not seen Elizabeth since the night when 


BY THE ASHES OF A GUILTY HOUSE. 11/ 

she and her child — her child and his — had fallen so 
unceremoniously into his arms on a windy street 
corner. 

He remembered, without a blush, how he had 
cursed her when she begged for shelter, but finally, 
fearing she would follow and annoy him, he had 
taken her away down into Whitechapel, with whose 
vilest passages he was marvelously well accquainted, 
and there secured for her a miserable room, which 
she, being weary and sick at heart and having no 
alternative, was only too thankful to accept. 

Another reason for this choice of location for 
Elizabeth’s future home was due to the fact that a 
certain Mongolian, whose friendship he valued, was 
living in that particular vicinity. 

This person he had known during his stay in 
China, but whether it was love or fear that bound 
them in such close alliance, would have been hard 
to determine from their conversation. At any rate 
the doings of each seemed well known to the other 
and each was equally pleased that it should so 
continue. 

The mention of Whitechapel brought no terror 
to Elizabeth's heart, for, in the bitterness of her 


Il8 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

misery, uncongenial surroundings were of little 
consequence. 

Strangely enough, the erring woman fears 
friends rather than strangers in the hour of her 
degradation. Whether it is that friendship rarely 
stands the test of sorrow and shame or any 
blow to its so-called pride, or whether the desperate 
couraofe which self abasement wakens in a woman’s 
heart is a better safeguard for her broken spirit 
than the pity of her associates, I know not, but 
in nearly every instance an unfortunate woman 
will choose poverty and complete estrangement 
from the friends of her happier days rather than 
bear the scorn or their self righteous censure. 

To the man who had so irretrievably wronged 
her, she clung with the pitiful persistency so 
frequently seen in those of her sex and now, as a 
passing thought of her fate entered Maurice s 
wandering mind, he suddenly became desirous of 
seeing her again. 

Just then the hansom, which had been rolling 
along briskly over the smoother streets, came to a* 
stop and “ Cabby ” leaning over, said briefly, 

' Ere s the ouse you was haskin’ for, Sir.’* 


BY THE ASHES OF A GUILTY HOUSE. 1 19 

Maurice bent forward and once more found him- 
self gazing upon Mrs. Sinclair's home in Portland 
.Place. The windows were dark and not a sign 
of life was visible. Strange/* he muttered ; 
“ She would certainly have returned here if she 
had escaped/* But during the full ten minutes 
that he remained before the house no sound within 
reached his ears, or no ray of light from its many 
windows told him of a living presence. 

Convinced now that Stella s body rested beneath 
that hideous mass of blackened timbers and voice- 
less ashes, he sank back nervelessly upon the 
cushions and in a trembling, husky whisper, ordered 
the thoroughly puzzled driver to hurry on. 

His last determination was to visit Elizabeth and 
to Whitechapel he was carried, with all the speed 
the overworked horses were capable of affording. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

STELLA IS RESTORED TO HER LOVER. 

When love illumines all the day 
In which we changeful mortals live — 
How swift our rancors pass away — 

How doubly easy^to forgive. 


During the brief moment that the sturdy English 
driver succeeded in holding back that span of 
frightened horses, Sir Frederic Atherton sprang 
from the carriage and by almost superhuman 
strength, drew from under the threatening hoofs, 
one of the prostrate women. 

A stalwart pedestrian ran to his assistance, but 
before the rescued woman could be placed out 
of harm s way, the other motionless form had been 
stamped upon and trodden into the earth by the 
infuriated brutes. 


120 


STELLA IS RESTORED TO HER LOVER. 


I2I 


As soon as they could be controlled, Sir 
Frederic and the unknown man raised the slender 
form, but one glance into her quiet face showed 
plainly that her life was ended, and that death, 
even in so horrible a manner, had brought her 
peace and rest. 

By this time. Lady Laura Trevor, Sir Frederic’s 
sister, had alighted from the carriage, and learning 
the terrible circumstances, assisted her brother as 
best she could to place the two apparently lifeless 
forms within the carriage. 

Not until Sir Frederic had taken the delicate 
form of Stella into his arms, did he receive any 
intimation of her identity. But as he laid her 
head carefully upon his shoulder, an indescribable 
feeling of fear and trembling passed over his manly 
form. It seemed as if the pain, the horror, and 
even the unconsciousness of the helpless girl was 
shared, by him. Her misfortune, for the instant 
racked his nerves with agony, and subsiding, 
dulled his senses almost to complete oblivion, and 
it was only with a vague feeling of- amazement that 
he heard his sister’s sudden exclamation. 

The light of the carriage lamp had fallen on 


122 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


Stella’s face, and although worn and pale from 
months of anxiety and imprisonment, it was readily 
recognized by Lady Trevor. 

Her voice sounded afar off in Sir Frederic’s 
ears, but pulling himself together with a great 
effort, he looked eagerly down into the pallid face. 
For a moment happiness overcame him and he 
held her to his heart in a perfect ecstasy of joy 
and gratitude, but in another instant, fear for the 
result of her injuries, usurped the place of joy and 
leaning from the window he ordered his man to 
drive directly to the home of his sister, which was 
near at hand. 

' The glow from the burning house reddened 
their way for some distance and fell with fitful 
glare upon the still, cold face that rested so heavily 
against Lady Trevor’s arm. 

Never was the sterling sense and philosophy of 
Mrs. Sinclair’s nature put to severer test than when 
Sir. Frederic led her, some hours later, into Lady 
Trevor’s magnificent parlors, and she beheld, 
stretched upon ready sofas, the lifeless form of 
Julia Webber, and the apparently lifeless form of 
her long lost darling, Stella. 


STELLA IS RESTORED TO HER LOVER. I23 

Controlling herself by a mighty will, Mrs. Sin- 
clair watched and waited for the verdict of the 
famous physician, which should bring to her sor- 
rowing heart renewed distress or unspeakable 
rejoicing. At last it came. Stella had raised 
her lustrous eyes to the physician’s face, and 
then smiling faintly at Mrs. Sinclair, called 
her name, jshe nestled her hand in hers and fell 
back upon the pillow in a calm, recuperating 
sleep. 

Meanwhile the dead girl had been laid with ten- 
der care in an adjoining room. In removing her 
tasteful garments Mrs. Sinclair unfastened the 
silver girdle and examined the contents of the 
leather bag to find, if possible, some clue to her 
identity. 

The folded paper proved to be a memor- 
andum of little consequence, but a brief state- 
ment of money deposited in a certain bank, gave 
them their only grain of information. This 
clue was acted upon at once, and both the 
body and the handwriting authentically identified 
thereby. 

It was further ascertained that in this same bank 


124 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

the sum of one hundred thousand pounds, had 
been placed by her, and here also was found a 
will, drawn up and signed in perfectly valid form, 
bequeathing her entire property, in case of sudden 
death, to a prominent home for fallen women in 
the city. 

With reverent hands they laid her in a velvet 
casket, and both Sir Frederic and Lady Trevor 
followed her to the tomb, while Mrs. Sinclair bent 
with joyful heart over the bedside of her cherished 
daughter. 

Nothing was known at the bank of the charac- 
ter of Julia Webber’s business. 

The money had been deposited, little by little, 
for ten years, and left undisturbed until it reached 
a goodly figure, but during the ten years of her 
depositing they had never, in a single instance, 
cashed her check, and the eccentricity of their fair 
depositor, had caused much comment among the 
usually silent clerks. 

It remained for Stella to reveal the evil of this 
woman s life and the source of her illgotten revenue. 
But woman s fame can never suffer in the hands 
of the innocent : only from evil thoughts, come 


STELLA IS RESTORED TO HER LOVER. 12$ 

evil speech, and in Stella s loving heart none but 
the kindest thoughts were ever entertained, and 
the sad death of Julia Webber, erased from her 
mind the last dark shadow of suspicion, and kept 
her memory forever faithful. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

SAFE IN THE ARMS OF LOVE 

Love, sacred love, how sweet thy will — 

How perfect thy entrancing bliss — . 

What purer joy our hearts could thrill — 

What rapture soothe our souls like this ? 

In a common cause of suffering or rejoicing, 
social distinction is frequently forgotten, — thus, 
over Stella^s safe return friends, relatives and ser- 
vants vied with one another in expressions of joy 
and gratitude, and even touched each other s hands 
in an outburst of heartfelt congratulation. 

To Mrs. Sinclair, Stella related every detail of 
her most astonishing experience, and the tears she 
shed over Julia Webber’s awful death were the 
proofs of genuine love and tender remembrance. 

It is true that Julia Webber had insisted upon 

126 


SAFfi IN THE ARMS OF LOVE. 


12;^ 

her imprisonment for eight long months, but from 
what had she not saved her I 

Of Maurice s whereabouts she knew as little as 
did Mrs. Sinclair, and after the first recital his 
name was never mentioned between them. To 
her faithful friend, Sir Frederic Atherton, Mrs. 
Sinclair repeated Stella’s story, but between the 
two no mention of the matter was ever made. 

In her perfect innocence, it never occurred to 
Stella that her imprisonment in Julia Webber’s 
house was anything more than unfortunate and 
humiliating, and if any more disagreeable thought 
entered Sir Frederic’s mind it was promptly 
banished as an unworthy suggestion of a worldly 
education. 

During the weeks of convalescence through 
which Stella passed after the shock of that even- 
ing’s disaster, Mrs. Sinclair scarcely left her side. 
The two were inseparable, and during the long 
winter evenings they would sit before the blazing, 
open fire, which was always to be found in Mrs. 
Sinclair’s cosy sitting-room on chilly nights, Mrs. 
Sinclair in the comfortable rocker with Stella’s 
golden head pillowed lovingly upon her knee, 


128 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

while the young girl sat in graceful comfort 
on the heavy hearth-rug, or a convenient otto- 
man. 

The sorrowful days had left their traces on Mrs. 
Sinclair's raven locks, and in the shadows about 
her eyes, but an expression of supreme thankful- 
ness shone on her face as her eyes rested lovingly 
on Stella’s wavy hair. Only now and then when 
silence fell upon the air, the sweet mouth curved 
in lines of sadness, and her motherly eyes seemed 
trying to pierce the clouds of uncertainty and 
apprehension that closed around her at every unfa- 
miliar step or voice. 

^ It was as if she looked and listened for a name- 
less something while she dreaded its coming with 
a mighty dread. Even now, when a card was 
handed her by the servant, her hand shook per- 
ceptibly as she took it from the salver. A look 
reassured her, and smiling into Stella’s upturned 
face, she said, “ It is Sir Frederic, love, shall we 
have him right up here ?” 

“ Certainly, mamma if you wish,” was the simple 
response, but in some way the face that a moment 
before was demure and white as the lily, is now 


SAFE IN THE ARMS OF LOVE. 


129 


flushed and brimming with joy like the heart of an 
opening rose. 

Rising, she had only time to seat herself deco- 
rously on the comfortable sofa when Sir Frederic 
entered. 

“ Ah, Sir Frederic, I am more than glad to see 
you this evening,” said Mrs. Sinclair, as she gave 
him her hand in greeting. 

“ And responded he, ‘‘ have been counting the 
moments since dinner in my eagerness to come 
and yet not presume upon your hospitality by the 
earliness of my appearance.” 

Then turning, he continued with a sudden rush 
of tenderness in his tones, “ and you, Miss Stella, 
are glad to see me ? ” He was so absorbed 
in the contemplation of her face and his eager- 
ness to hear her answer, that Mrs. Sinclairs 
somewhat unceremonious exit from the room was 
unnoticed. 

Stella smiled, and giving him her hand, said 
softly, “ I am very glad, Sir Frederic, it is always 
a pleasure to see you, but to-night,” — here her 
eyes filled with tears, is the anniversary of all 
our trouble, and you have been our best and 


130 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

dearest friend, mamma's and mine. I don’t know 
what we should have done without you," here her 
voice grew fainter as she continued, brokenly, “ I 
don’t know what I,” — 

She could not go on, and Sir Frederic, placing 
his arm tenderly about her, pillowed her head 
upon his breast while he whispered gently, “You 
shall never do without me again, little one, for 
indeed I cannot live longer without you. I may 
not tell my love prettily, Stella, for I am little 
versed in that pleasing art, but if a life of untiring 
devotion can speak my love, I will gladly give you 
that. Look up dear heart, and tell me that you 
will give yourself to me forever.’’ 

But Stella did not look up. Instead, she nestled 
her head deeper in his arms, but as his lips 
touched her shining hair, he murmured with a 
satisfied and radiant smile, “ my darling, my 
wife.’’ 

To a man of forty who has lived his life unsinged 
by pas^on’s blaze, and unblinded by young love’s 
delusion, the blessing of a woman’s love brings 
peace and happiness, almost too great for human 
understanding. All the currents of his soul go 


SAFE IN THE ARMS OF LOVE. I31 

out to her, and the restless rivers of his mighty 
nature find peace at last in the unfathomable 
ocean of her love. 

Thus it was during the first sweet hour of their 
betrothal. In Sir Frederic’s heart the calm of a 
great joy followed like a summer cloud upon the 
path of a sorrowful tempest. 

Not so with Stella, however, for with the first 
great rush of joy on knowing that she was so 
beloved, her very identity, past, present and 
future, seemed lost in his. A glorious panorama 
of heavenly sights and entrancing music burst 
upon her vision. 

Self was lost in the whirlpool of future joys and 
duties, and the only object that stood clear before 
her eyes was the form of her heart’s beloved, 
and to him she clung with all the fond abandon of 
her simple trusting nature. 

Body and soul she gave herself to her lover, as 
woman can only give herself once in the period of 
her existence, and in deeply reverential spirit. Sir 
Frederic received the precious gift and cherished 
it forever. 

It was Mrs. Sinclair’s voice at the door that at 


132 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

last recalled the lovers to a vague consideration of 
things earthly. 

The eyes of an indifferent observer could hardly 
have misunderstood the situation, and Mrs. Sinclair 
only glanced into Stella s face and in another sec- 
ond her darling was in her arms and both were 
laughing and crying in true woman fashion. 


CHAPTER XX. 


DR. SEWARD’s experiment. 

Our bodies are only an instrument clever 
By which the soul works out a phase of existence — 

Each member responds when the soul moves the lever 
Unless overcome by abnormal resistance. 

Ever since the morning that Lady Van Tyne 
confided her belief in Maurice Sinclairs Satanic 
indiyiduality to her family physician, the remorse- 
ful Dr. Seward was imbued with an undying curi- 
osity to learn more of this human phenomenon : 
But the abduction of Stella, coming so suddenly 
upon them, made it almost impossible to indulge 
his interest in that direction. 

Naturally he would not care to mention the 
subject to the grief tortured mother, and as to 
Lady Van Tyne, her excitement rendered her 
totally incoherent whenever the subject was 

*33 


134 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

broached. Another reason for sensitiveness on 
the part of Dr. Seward, when in the presence of 
Mrs. Sinclair, may have lain in the knowledge 
of his guilty secret, the unburdening of which, 
would have been to press the dregs of shame to 
Lady Van Tyne’s lips and pierce the devoted 
mourner of Archibald Sinclair where her love and 
faith were tenderest. Thus it was not until after 
the restoration of Stella to her foster mother’s 
arms that the impatient physician learned ought 
of the young man in whom he had taken so unac- 
countable an interest. 

It was now some time after Stella s recovery 
and Dr. Seward was sitting, for a brief social call, 
with Mrs. Sinclair in her pleasant parlor. Dr. 
Seward had been a faithful friend for years and 
now that her darling was safe, Mrs. Sinclair told 
him freely of Stella’s unfortunate experience and 
of the information which she received of her son 
during her brief call upon Elizabeth Merril’s 
grandparents. 

The old physician was deeply interested in the 
narrative and made occasional notes on one of his 
visiting cards in reference to the matter. The 


DR. SEWARD’S EXPERIMENT. 1 35 

names of Lawrence Maynard and Elizabeth Merril 
were heavily underscored and the card placed care- 
fully in his pocket. 

The doctor laid great weight upon the absence 
of intuitive, motherly affection in Mrs. Sinclair’s 
case at her son’s appearance when she had clearly 
explained her feelings to her old adviser, but she 
only saw in his rigid cross questioning the life 
long habit of scientific analysis and gave little 
thought to the problem which the physician was 
trying, in his clever brain, to solve. More inter- 
ested than he cared to admit. Dr. Seward only 

waited a few days before going to G St., as had 

Mrs. Sinclair before him. 

The aged couple, burdened with sorrow, were 
only waiting the hour when, hand in hand, they 
should enter the dark valley of the shadow of 
death, even as they had walked through the many 
checkered paths of a life of nearly four score years. 

Perhaps it was a mercy that their trusting hearts 
were spared the actual knowledge of Elizabeth’s 
fate, as the sweet memory of her childhood and 
girlish days was always a solace even in their 
moments of grief. Could they have seen her at 


136 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

any time during the year that had now elapsed 
since her disappearance, the misery and squalor 
of her surroundings and the shame of her one 
error, would have occasioned their virtuous souls 
far more anguish than the awful death which they 
supposed to have been her fate. Calmly, and with 
unvarying precision, the white haired woman 
related to Dr. Seward the only crumbs of informa- 
tion it had been her lot to gain, and from another 
room she brought a small, oddly shaped vial, con- 
taining a dark brown powder, which she said she 
had found in his apartments when her eccentric, 
young lodger had left. 

The vial was without a label and heedful of Mr. 
Maynard s frequent warnings the cork had never 
been removed. 

It took but a glance to show Dr. Seward that it 
was an exact counterpart of the one found in Stella s 
room the morning after her abduction, and placing 
it carefully in his pocket he took kindly leave of 
the aged people, and not wholly dissatisfied with 
his morning s work, returned speedily to his pri- 
vate office. It was about three in the afternoon 
when he seated himself in his easy chair, and 


DR. SEWARD’S EXPERIMENT. 1 37 

adjusting his glasses prepared to examine, from a 
purely analytical standpoint, the brownish powder 
contained in the little vial. He held it to the light, 
but it was opaque, dull and uninteresting. He 
shook it, but the agitated particles fell back as 
indifferently as possible to their original positions. 
Then, true to his vocation, he removed the stop- 
per gingerly between his first and middle fingers 
and raised the vial cautiously to a respectful dis- 
tance from his nose. The first sniff was entirely 
non-committal. The next was a little stronger 
effort and he thought he detected a faint, sickish 
odor. 

Shaking the bottle again gently, he drew it 
nearer and took a bold inspiration immediately 
over its contents. Almost instantly his hand fell 
to his side ; the vial fell upon the heavy carpet, 
spilling most of its contents, and these, as they 
came in contact with the air, ignited and burnt, 
while the sickening, penetrating fumes arose like 
incense and completely filled the spacious apart- 
ment. For one hour by the clock he sat there, 
motionless as death, but fully cognizant of all that 
passed about him. He longed, with true scientific 


138 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

fervor, to rescue the vial with its remaining con- 
tents, but his members were benumbed and 
motionless. He heard the signs of life in and 
about the house, but was powerless to raise his 
voice. He even fancied, in his speculative man- 
ner, that he was experiencing the sensations of a 
disembodied soul after the resurrection, and his 
scepticism regarding spiritualism and theosophy, 
was shaken to its very foundation. 

There was no terror in the situation and almost 
from force of long trained habit, he noted every 
symptom of his condition with great precision and 
detail. He saw the hands move slowly on the 
clock before him, and felt the draught from a half 
closed door blowing softly upon his back. This 
trifling matter amused him, coming to his mind, as 
it did, in the midst of grave, spiritualistic medita- 
tions, and the mental smile which accompanied the 
amusement was another proof of the absolute use- 
lessness of the fleshy body for all demonstrations 
of like nature. 

It seemed strange to him that he had never 
before realized how useless an encumbrance the 
body was, after all. He could see, hear, smell and 


DR. SEWARD’S EXPERIMENT. 1 39 

think, and his mind conveyed him wheresoever he 
willed, so that really only the power of speech was 
denied him. Suddenly it occurred to him that 
speech also was possible, but it must necessarily 
be a communion of similar disembodied souls 
rather than intercourse with ordinary mortals, and 
while he was longing with all the zeal of his inves- 
tigatory nature for an opportunity to test his 
mental vocabulary, a tingling sensation began in 
his extremities and passed, almost like an electric 
current, through all his members. His living 
death was ended, and concentrating all his ener- 
gies, he staggered from the chair. 

The fumes from the burning powder were now 
exhausted, and bending unsteadily, he secured the 
half emptied vial and corking it firmly, concealed it 
once more in his pocket. 

Then touching an electric bell, he sent a peal 
vibrating through the house, and a moment later, 
when the frightened assistant hurriedly entered, it 
was only to find the good physician stretched in 
apparently dreamless slumber upon the office sofa. 


CHAPTER XXL 

A PERFECT UNION. 

A happy marriage is, in truth, a lovely thing — 

A forest of perfect joy from which all virtues spring. 

The months of another year flew swiftly by and 
still nothing was heard of Maurice Sinclair. It was 
finally concluded by all that he had escaped to some 
foreign port and the search was finally abandoned. 

In her new joy, Stella overlooked the past as 
only youth can overlook its sorrows, but in Mrs. 
Sinclair’s heart there was always a bitter pain and 
a mother’s prayer for her erring boy. 

It was the second anniversary of that never to be 
forgotten ball, but it was Stella’s wish that the 
crowning happiness of her life should take place on 
the recurrence of that night which brought them all 
so much of grief and misery, and, although torn 
with varied emotions, Mrs. Sinclair was well content 
that it should be. 


140 


A PERFECT UNION. 


I4I 

Thus, in the grand drawing room of her foster 
mother’s home, Stella and Sir Frederic were 
married. 

The ceremony was strictly private, as the 
shadow of sin and sorrow still hung heavily above 
their heads. 

But to Stella it was as the glorious dawn of 
another life, whose anticipated pleasures were far 
in excess of any she had heretofore experienced. 
Peace and joy spread their white wings about her 
and the haven of her husband’s love seemed the 
very portals of Heaven itself. 

For this night also, the shadows were lifted from 
Mrs. Sinclair’s face, and banishing with a resolute 
will, the fears and anxieties of the past, she 
entertained the few guests with her old time gracious 
stateliness. 

As for Sir Frederic, it mattered little to him that 
the world was full of sorrow ; that every pleasure 
came attended with more or less of grief and pain ; 
that rogues and rascals exceeded by far the honest 
members of society and all on earth was vanity and 
vexation of spirit. Into his life had come a bliss, 
capable in itself of turning bitter, sweet ; of overcom- 


142 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

ing evil with good and changing all the darker 
passions of life, chameleon like, beneath the 
rays of his rosy lenses. 

It was Stella’s own wish that they, Mrs. Sinclair, 
her husband and herself, should visit America on 
their wedding journey, and Sir Frederic, thinking 
it would be best for them all to leave for a time the 
scenes of so much sorrow, readily acceded to her 
wish. Not but that he would have consented just 
as readily to a trip across the Sahara or to some 
unexplored region in the mountains of the moon, 
but America was her wish, and to America they 
sailed on the first Cunarder that left Liverpool after 
their marriage. 

Stella’s marriage to Sir Frederic, although a 
quiet and unostentatious event, brought, both to 
Stella and Mrs. Sinclair, a sense of security and 
protection that was very grateful after the anxieties 
and excitement of the past. 

Women may prate of independent self reliance, 
and scorn the assistance of man during their hours 
of success and pleasure, but seldom it is in the 
darker days, when danger threatens and the weak- 
ness of a delicate organism assumes alarming pro- 


A PERFECT UNION. 


143 


portions, that the willing hand and steaay head of 
an honorable man, goes unappreciated. 

Goodly numbers there be, whose only claim to 
manliness lies in body and garments, from the 
weakness of whose intellects, brave women turn with 
ill concealed disgust, but an unwomanly woman it 
is that does not value true masculine strength and 
bravery and turn with grateful heart to the protect- 
ing arm that is proffered so gladly in each and every 
disaster of life. 

It seemed to Stella that forever and ever she was 
safe from the temptations and evils of life, and 
upon the rock of her husband s protection she threw 
herself with that tender helplessness so dear to an 
adoring husband s heart. 

Woman has done much to increase man’s 
femininety by her persistency in doing his duties 
for him, and if now her “ lord and master ” sits 
calmly by while she labors for the support of the 
family, the responsibility of this deplorable result 
rests, in nearly every instance, upon herself or some 
other self-sufficient member of her short sighted 
sisterhood. 

Mrs. Sinclair had been an almost worshiping 


144 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


wife, but her independent nature responded to the 
touch of necessity, and in the time of required 
bravery no woman could have acted with greater 
courage and judgment. 

Thus, in Stella s childlike trust, Sir Frederic 
recognized the germs of noble womanhood, and 
respect and reverence blended deeply with his 
tender love and passion. 

When at last the service was ended and man 
and wife were clasped in each other s arms, that 
measure of perfect and enduring love was felt by 
them that is rarely known in this world of thought- 
less and misguided unions. 

Little did they dream that on the very night of 
their perfect happiness, another terrible tragedy 
was being enacted, with Maurice Sinclair in the 
villain s role and Elizabeth Merril again the victim. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


“ QUEEN LIZ.” 

A cry in the darkness — a crime in the night.— 

With the blood of the victim the sharp blade is wct ; 

In silence we gaze on the horrible sight — 

The dark deed is done — but the end is not yet. 

It was on this very night that the habitues of 
that particular passage in the Whitechapel section, 
gazed with sentiments of mingled awe and curi- 
osity, as Sam Hop Lee withdrew the bloody 
weapon from the prostrate body of Queen Liz.” 

Elizabeth s reputation in the passage was pretty 
clearly defined in our opening chapter. Her abil- 
ity to defend herself and friends against her pugi- 
listic and plundering neighbors had been the 
eventual outcome of fear, desperation and the first 
law of nature, 

MS 


146 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

She shunned their society from the first, and 
acting on the advice of one who knew the ways of 
rogues and rascals from long association, she 
demonstrated her skill in the use of “ protecting 
irons ” at the very first provocation. Jealousy and 
envy surrounded her, yet so great was their fear 
of genuine bravery that Elizabeth managed to live 
pretty much as she wished in her own wretched 
room. She guarded her beautiful baby girl with 
the ferocious affection of a tigress. Not an 
instant, day or night, was the child allowed out of 
her sight so great was her distrust of those by 
whom she was surrounded. 

But in some way from the first, Sam Lee had 
in many ways befriended her. He had given the 
baby queer little chop sticks to play with and not 
infrequently an odd looking paper of curious tast- 
ing tea was slipped into her hand by the beady- 
eyed mongolian. Recognizing him at once as Mr. 
Maynards mysterious peddler, Elizabeth was 
inclined to be suspicious of his friendship, but as 
days and weeks rolled by she found herself going 
oftener and oftener to his quarters, and never in a 
single instance did he abuse her neighborly 


147 


QUEEN LIZ.** 

advances. She tried hard to teach him the Eng- 
lish language, but in spite of his earnest efforts he 
proved but an indifferent scholar. 

Soon it was noticed that the genteel looking 
stranger who spent so much time with Queen Liz, 
became also much at home in the Chinaman s 
shanty, and they were frequently heard conversing 
in that peculiarly abbreviated language that was 
so bewildering to those who listened. 

The genteel stranger was always arrayed In a 
heavy coat with a jaunty cape and a soft felt hat 
slouched suspiciously over his eyes. His beard 
was red and closely cropped, while a tawny mous- 
tache completely concealed his mouth. He was 
seldom seen during the day, but partook strongly 
of the habits of the other residents in his noctur- 
nal goings and comings. 

Queen Liz always escorted him safely to the 
street, and it was observed by the more curious 
that her face wore a happier expression after one 
of his visits, and her whole manner betokened a 
lighter heart. She would fondle and caress the 
baby, which she always kept spotlessly clean, and 
occasionally her voice was heard as she sang some 


148 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

plaintive air to the uncertain accompaniment of a 
clanging Chinese cymbal. 

But to-night it was all over, and as Sam Lee 
withdrew the glittering knife from her bleeding 
side, a terrible frown darkened his brow ; Chinese 
curses and lamentations followed one upon 
another, and to the bewildered spectators it 
seemed as if, in his own heathenish method, Sam 
Lee was swearing vengeance on the murderer, 
whom he had evidently recognized by the weapon. 
At any rate, he removed the woman and the child, 
and the inmates, nothing loth, resigned all claim 
upon them both, and soon the episode, like many 
others of similar nature, was forgotten. 

Only a week later the Chinaman s shanty was 
closed and no one of the trio. Queen Liz, the child 
or their benefactor, was ever again seen by the 
inhabitants of the passage. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

ELIZABETH FINDS FRIENDS. 

He who has suffered knows the pain. 

That other sufferers bear; 

And trom the torn and bleeding heart, 

Flows balm for every care. 

The first day at sea was fair and uneventful, but 
on the second day a curious episode occurred upon 
the deck. 

An under-officer, young and with a frank, boyish 
face, came quietly, hat in hand, to where Mrs. 
Sinclair, Sir Frederic and Stella were sitting, and 
in a respectful manner requested permission to 
address the ladies in behalf of a poor woman and 
her child who had shipped in the steerage. 

The woman, he said, was refined in her 
appearance, and was very seriously ill while her 
sufferings were necessarily aggravated by her 
incommodious surroundings. 


149 


150 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


With a modest blush he went on to say that 
ever since he discovered her wretched condition he 
had been scanning the faces of the passengers in 
search of a kindly heart and had finally decided 
upon their party as the one most liable to assist him 
in his humane undertaking. 

She was being cared for, in a measure, by a kind 
hearted Mongolian, but his sympathies were won, 
not so much by the woman as by the baby, who 
seemed almost entirely neglected. 

He had learned that the woman was a victim of 
intended murder, and the Chinaman whose name 
was registed among the steerage lists as Sam Hop 
Lee, had taken both woman and child and gone 
forth unaided and unasked, in search of the murderer 
whose face he knew and who he had good reason 
to believe, was now in New York. 

The story seemed plausible, and the memory of 
their own bitter sorrows fresh in their minds, made 
their hearts ache with sympathy in the poor 
woman’s behalf, still, quite naturally, the ladies 
hesitated before taking upon themselves so great a 
responsibility, 

But the young officer, with a shrewd knowledge 


ELIZABETH FINDS FRIENDS, 151 

of women s hearts, ran forward, and as quickly 
returned with one of the sweetest, cunningest 
babies in the world.” 

At least, that was the verdict of both ladies on 
the very instant of the little girls appearance. 

The baby settled the matter, as the young officer 
almost knew she would. She looked into Stella’s 
lovely face and smiled, but she opened her little 
arms to Mrs. Sinclair and nestled her curly head in 
her motherly arms and no coaxing or inducements 
could alter her decision. Fortunately, a berth was 
secured for the invalid, but no one ever guessed 
that it was the young officer s own stateroom that 
was so promptly offered for her acceptance. 

Sir Frederic made many attempts to gain more 
information regarding the unfortunate woman and 
her child from Sam Hop Lee, but his limited 
English so confused and muddled him that there 
was little satisfaction to be gained. 

The young officer succeeded better through a 
slight knowledge of the Chinese tongue, but 
whether Sam Lee did not sufficiently understand 
or whether he had some reason for remaining silent 
it was difficult to determine, 


152 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


However it was, nothing definite was learned 
through repeated conversations with him, arid he 
gradually slipped back to his position in the steerage 
and the ladies saw no more of him during the 
voyage. The woman was suffering, not only from 
an incisive cut in the side, just over the lower rib, 
but also from an obstinate attack of pleurisy from 
exposure and lack of care, so that conversation 
with her was, at the time, impossible. 

The little girl was sweet and affectionate and 
soon made friends with all on deck, much to the 
satisfaction of the young officer who, apparently, 
looked upon her as a sort of protege. 

Little did Stella and Mrs. Sinclair dream of the 
disclosures that time was destined to reveal regard- 
ing this innocent child and her unhappy young 
mother. 

But before another day had passed, a story was 
brought to their wondering ears that made them 
forget for a time the sorrows of others in the 
extraordinary development of their own life tragedy. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


STELLA CONFIDES IN HER HUSBAND. 

The sky is dark with storm and cloud — 

The ocean’s face is cold and drear — 

But deep within two loving hearts 
The light of faith burns ever clear. 

The steamer was now about half way across the 
Atlantic, and this was the first disagreeable 
weather she had encountered. To-night the wind 
blew heavily ; the waves rolled high and few of 
the many passengers remained on deck after the 
*‘dog watch” was set. 

Mrs, Sinclair felt a slight sensation of that much 
dreaded and truly awful malady which bears the 
mild, delusive name of sea-sickness, and remained 
quietly in her berth, but Stella, clinging to her 
husband s arm, reached a somewhat sheltered spot 
on deck, and there, with his arm about her, Sir 
>53 


154 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Frederic sat and looked about over the fast dark- 
ening ocean. 

Clouds, black and threatening, were rolling 
heavily across the sky, while the winds howled 
angrily through the rigging, and the white capped 
waves threw themselves against the steamer’s 
sides as though enraged at her stubborn resistance 
of their destroying wills. Truly, sky and ocean, 
air and space, seemed joining powers in a mighty 
effort to overthrow the universe, and were only 
lashed into greater fury at the defiance cast in 
their very teeth by the handiwork of man. Yet 
the steamer advanced steadily forward, coquetting 
with the gentler waves and breasting the more 
determined ones with dogged persistence. 

But to Stella, the confusion of the elements 
brought only a feeling of greater security in her 
husband’s love. She looked to him and trusted ; 
she clung to him and was safe, — for come weal or 
woe, they were together, and death by whatever 
manner could bring no terror, so that it found her 
in his arms. After a few moments of silent con- 
templation, Stella raised her eyes and whispered 
jSoftly, “ Dearest, there is something I would like 


STELLA CONFIDES IN HER HUSBAND. 1 55 

to tell you, in fact, I should have done so before 
but I was so happy I dreaded to revive old memo- 
ries, — but now, I feel that I would like to tell you, 
of that night — ” 

“No, Darling,” Sir Frederic interrupted, 
quickly. “ Do not speak of it Stella. Try and for- 
get all that is past, and live only in the joys of the 
present and future,” and he pressed her closer to 
his side as if the joy of his present was sufficient 
to eradicate all memories of unpleasant nature. 

“ But I think I would feel easier if I could tell 
you, dear,’’ she pleaded. “ It was all so strange, 
but neither you or mamma ever asked me and 
some way I have never felt like mentioning it 
myself until to-night. Do let me tell you, 
Frederic,” she entreated. 

“ Stella, dear, if you wish to, certainly my love, 
only do not let your memory dwell upon so pain- 
ful a subject.” 

“ It is about that night,” Stella said softly. “ I 
had gone to my room to retire, after telling 
Maurice plainly which room I was to occupy. I 
closed my door and threw open the window for a 
moment while I stood, injudiciously you will say, 


156 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

and let the damp mists cool my face. I did not 
hear my door open, neither did I hear his step, 
but suddenly a most peculiar odor stifled me. I 
turned quickly to see from whence it came, and 
there was Maurice standing by my side. The ex- 
pression on his face was horrible. I opened my 
lips, involuntarily, to scream, but no sound came. 
Instead, my throat and lungs seemed instantly 
filled to suffocating with the stifling odor. I grew 
dizzy and would have fallen but he caught me in his 
arms. Then he wrapped my cloak about me, — 
put my traveling cap on my head, and, Frederic, 
I walked out of the room with his aid, through the 
hall to the side door and actually entered a cab, 
knowing all the time exactly as well what I Was 
doing as I know now, but it was impossible for me 
to speak or think connectedly. I could not 
move without his aid. So it was throughout 
that long and dreadful ride ; I could neither 
speak or move but I heard and understood 
every word that he addressed to me. He 
evidently knew the exact nature of the drug 
that he had employed for he talked to me all the 
way, telling me his plans, and the awful fate that 


STELLA CONFIDES IN HER HUSBAND. 15^? 

awaited me if I did not yield to his wishes. But 
this I must say to his credit, that in no way did he 
molest me and I was as free from the pollution of 
his touch when I left the carriage as when I 
entered it.” 

Here Stella’s voice died away as a specially vin- 
dictive gust swept by their sheltered nook, and Sir 
Frederic, after pressing a tender kiss upon her lips, 
sprang to his feet and wrapping her closer in his 
ample rug, almost carried her across the deck and 
down to the comfortable stateroom, then leaving 
her with Mrs. Sinclair, he climbed the stairs once 
more, and walked back and forth across the slip- 
pery planks, trying to calm, if possible, the tumult 
of indignation and sorrow, that Stella’s recital 
aroused within his breast. 

Soon two other passengers joined him in his 
solitary walk, and it was evident to him by the 
peculiar roll of the body, that one of the new- 
comers at least, was well accustomed to pacing 
slippery decks and encountering heavy seas. 
Sure enough, he was the old “ sea dog ” whose 
genial, brown face had won the hearts of all at the 
Captain^s table. He was Commander of some ship 


I5S DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

now on dry dock, and was taking this opportunity 
to try a voyage with his friend, the Captain of the 
Cunarder. 

To-night, he had succeeded in enticing a partic- 
ularly timid young man on deck to “ try the 
weather and brace him up a bit,’^ as he good- 
naturedly explained it. But now that he was 
once more walking the deck in the teeth of a 
“ rattling breeze,” ’his cup of pleaure overflowed 
and he proceeded to terrify the young man nearly 
out of his wits by a thrilling sea yarn of earlier 
days. 

Sir Frederic, realizing that a story told on deck 
is common property, linked his arm in the young 
man s unoccupied one and catching step as best he 
could, walked on, while he listened somewhat 
absently to the Captain s narrative. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE captain’s STORY. 

What manner of mankind is he 
Who dares impersonate the dead ? 

Alas ! The doom of treachery 
Must some day fall upon his head. 

It was twelve years ago,” the Captain was 
saying, “ and I was in charge of the ^ Water 
Sprite,' running from Liverpool to Calcutta. She 
was a rakish little craft, with a slippery keel, 
— quick to mind her helm and would carry sail 
to the last, but we’d had a long, rough voyage 
and all hands was pretty nigh used up, but when 
we was about three days from the eastern port we 
was struck, almost unawares, by a terrible gale. 
I say unawares, but I must own we was in pretty 
good shape for squalls all the time, but on this 

159 


l6o DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

partic’lar night I staid below more’n I should if it 
hadn't been that one of the young chaps that shipped 
'tween decks in the cargo at Liverpool, was a 
dyin' out of pure out and out sea sickness. 

Well, as I was sayin ; the first officer was on the 
bridge and I was sittin’ below with young Sinclair, 
when " — 

“ Excuse me. Captain, — Sinclair, did you say ?" 
exclaimed Sir Frederic, suddenly aroused to 
interest by the familiar name. 

“ Aye, Aye, Sir, Maurice Sinclair, a lad of about 
fifteen years. He said he'd got into some scrape 
at home and had just started out on his own hook, 
and ” — 

“ Maurice Sinclair, — Twelve years ago, — Did he 
die ?” Sir Frederic almost screamed in the old Cap- 
tain’s ear as a howling blast swept by, nearly driv- 
ing their feet from under them. 

The old man steadied him with a powerful 
hand but his ire was rising at these frequent 
interruptions to his favorite yarn, and he an- 
swered somewhat snappishly, “Die? Yes, poor 
lad. He died in my arms that very night in 
the height of the gale, when the rigging was 


THE CAPTAIN'S STORY. l6l 

swept away and the waves was washing the upper 
deck—" 

‘'Can you prove that demanded Sir Frederic, 
excitedly. 

" Prove what ? that the rigging was swept 
away ?" thundered the old salt, now thoroughly 
.angry. 

“No! No! — that Maurice Sinclair died in your 
arms, twelve years ago." 

Well I ruther guess I can, seein’ as I’ve got the 
young chap’s partin’ letter to his mother in Lon- 
don and a picter of the old lady herself ’’ — 

“ Let me see it, quick,’’ said Sir Frederic, then 
in a measure controlling himself, he told him as 
briefly as possible of Maurice Sinclair’s return to 
his mother’s house a little over two years ago and 
of the crime for which he was wanted by the city 
authorities. 

The old Captain was inclined to be incredulous, 
but before Sir Frederic had finished his story, his 
ire had vanished, so also had all recollection of the 
yarn he had been about to spin, and leaving the 
timid young man to return as best he could, he 
laid his hand on Sir Frederic’s arm and hurried 


i 62 death to the inquisitive. 

him down the companion way while he muttered 
spitefully between his teeth: 

“ It’s a lie. Maurice Sinclair is dead, and 
that rascal, whoever he is, is a Damned Im- 
poster ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


SORROW AND REJOICING. 

The pain of death hath bitterness 
Too deep for man to name — 

But, ah! the poignant sting of grief 
Accompanied with shame ! 

Words can hardly convey the feelings of won- 
der, sorrow and relief that followed each other in 
rapid succession through Mrs. Sinclair s mind at 
the old Captain s story. 

She looked upon the undeniable proof of her 
own photograph with tears of thankfulness in her 
eyes, while the last repentant words of her only 
child, brought pain too deep for utterance or dem- 
onstration. It seemed that two lads of about the 
same age, strangers to each other, became inspired 
with the mutual desire to run away from parental 
authority and try their luck upon the ocean. 

163 


i 64 death to the inquisitive. 

Neither of the lads dreamed for an instant that 
their unexpected entree into the Captain s family, 
when they were safely out of port, would be 
greeted with less than cheers and congratulations, 
or that other than ease and glory would be their 
portion for the remainder of the voyage. 

Fortunately, for the success of their expectations, 
the Commander of the “ Water Sprite ” had a 
gentle heart under his rough exterior, and more- 
over, had boys of his own at home, so he only 
insisted on their earning their glory by keeping 
the brass work shining and allowed them to eat 
their fill at the second table. 

The boys were singularly alike in feature but 
widely different in expression and disposition, 
Maurice being mischievous and happy, while Jack 
Fenton, the other lad, was ill-natured and vicious 
in his dealings with his companion in the adven- 
ture. 

On the day preceding the terrible storm, 
Maurice was taken violently ill, and notwithstand- 
ing all was done that could be under such limited 
circumstances, he passed away almost at the very 
moment, when, rudderless and with her rigging 


SORROW AND REJOICING. l6S 

swept away, the Water Sprite drifted helplessly 
at the mercy of wind and wave. 

They were all saved through the timely assist- 
ance of an outgoing steamer, but Maurice’s dead 
body was left to find a watery grave, through 
sheer inability to remove it. 

The other lad was safely landed in Calcutta, and 
the Captain soon lost track of him in the press of 
his many duties. 

To the old Captain, Maurice had told much of 
his home surroundings and the letter to his mother, 
on the day of his death, was written at his instiga- 
tion, when his experienced eye saw that the black 
shadow was fast settling down upon the frail lad s 
features. Before he died he gave his ring, his 
- clothing and the few other trifles that he had 
managed to conceal about him when leaving home, 
to his comrade. Jack Fenton. 

Afterward the Captain regretted that he had not 
retained these treasures with the photograph and 
letter, but years passed by and in the varied 
excitements and dangers of his adventurous life 
the incident was only remembered in connection 
with the terrible disaster to his favorite vessel, but 


i66 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


the letter and picture had traveled about with him 
for twelve long years, so safely hidden in the case 
of his miniature pocket compass that their very 
existence was forgotten until the moment of Sir 
Frederic's astounding revelation. The night was 
far spent before he had finished his narrative and 
answered the almost innumerable questions of his 
excited hearers. 

They little heeded the violence of the storm, so 
great was the tempest of sorrow and rejoicing that 
raged within their hearts. When morning broke, 
the ladies were more composed, and a peaceful 
smile rested upon Mrs. Sinclair s face. 

Truly, the grief for a loved one whom death has 
taken from our hearts and homes, is nothing in 
comparison to the shame and sorrow for one upon 
whom evil deeds have left an ineffaceable stigma. 
A load seemed lifted from her heart and although 
sorrow fell like a pall around her, still the bitter- 
ness had been removed and even in her bereave- 
ment she could find great cause for heartfelt thank- 
fulness. 

The sick woman was slowly recovering and the 
little Elsa was like a ray of sunshine, lighting 


SORROW AND REJOICING. 16/ 

Up each grief darkened heart with her merry 
prattle. 

Promptly upon their arrival in New York the 
suffering woman was placed in the wards of St. 
Luke’s Hospital, but the little girl was gladly 
retained under the watchful eye of motherly Mrs. 
Sinclair. 

Some way, in the bustle and confusion of dis- 
embarking, Sam Lee was totally forgotten, but 
the beady eyes of the Mongolian watched their 
every movement and in his own quiet way he soon 
discovered the destination of both the woman and 
the little girl. 

It was not long before Sir Frederic secured the 
lease of a handsomely furnished house, and 
removed, not only Mrs. Sinclair and Stella, but 
also the now convalescent woman and her child, 
to this beautiful, although transient, home. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE. 

The chain goes on in endless round, 

Its motions slow or fast — 

But every link is firmly bound 
Twixt present and the past. 

For several days after his experiment with that 
little vial Dr. Seward was too ill to more than 
raise his head from the pillow. He was a large, 
portly man and the continued nausea from that 
sickish odor completely prostrated him. 

He would not disclose the cause of his illness 
to any one, consequently the wildest rumors 
floated about among his friends and patients and 
almost every affliction in the calendar, from apo- 
plexy to measles, was ascribed to him. Weeks 
passed and, although fully restored to health, the 
sensations he had experienced could never be quite 
168 


THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE. 169 

erased from his memory, and although he fre- 
quently awoke in the morning with the grim 
determination to again examine that brownish 
powder, night invariably found him as ignorant of 
its constituents as a good, wholesome fear could 
make him. 

In a moment of almost unprecedented mischief he 
labeled the bottle with the words “ Death to the 
Inquisitive ” and laid it carefully away in a private 
drawer. 

But now that Stella and Sir Frederic was mar- 
ried and they and Mrs. Sinclair were so happily 
settled over across the water, his desire to pene- 
trate the mystery of Maurice Sinclairs identity 
returned with all its force. 

The bottle was his only clue and that a very 
unsatisfactory one, as the one found in Stella's 
room was empty when discovered. He could not 
compare the contents, so what was the use of 
risking another journey to the land of spirits, he 
argued. 

But at last science pf^vailed, and determined 
not to again defy the enemy alone, he put the vial 
in his pocket and ordering his carriage drove 


I/O DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

swiftly to Guy*s Hospital to ask the assistance of 
his friend, the Superintendant of that Institution, 
in his perilous undertaking. Dr. Seward related 
to his friend the particulars of his first experiment 
and with the unassuming vial between them, they 
consulted long and earnestly on the best method 
of attack. 

The powder was inflammable in air and must 
therefore be protected. The first step was to 
test its solubility, so drawing a small quantity of 
water from the Burette into an Erhlenmeyer flask, 
Dr. Seward carefully removed the cork and plac- 
ing the necks of the two bottles together suc- 
ceeded in shaking a small quantity of the powder 
into the water. Then the vial was recorked and 
set carefully away. The powder did not dissolve 
and the experimenter waved the flask gently back 
and forth over the flame of a Bunsen burner while 
his friend retired to another room to complete a 
little experiment that he was working on when Dr. 
Seward arrived. 

A moment after, he reentered holding a smok- 
ing tube in each hand. 

‘‘ Well how is it ? ” he enquired, interestedly, as 


THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE. 


I/I 


he looked about anxiously for a stand to place his 
test tubes in. 

“ Insoluble in water,” was the answer as Dr. 
Seward held the flask to the light and scrutinized the 
particles which, were floating, apparently uninjured, 
in the almost boiling water. 

“ See here. Doctor,” said the Superintendent 
desperately, “ You have more hands than I, just 
now ; Do you mind stepping into the office and 
bringing me that paper on reactions.^ You will 
find it right in my desk.” 

Dr. Seward rose immediately and passed into 
the office. Standing by the open desk with the 
flask raised high in one hand, with the other he 
turned over a pile of papers in the somewhat dis- 
ordered receptacle. 

At last he saw one, wrinkled and stained, 
and feeling sure that its demoralized condition 
was received through the spatters from an 
evaporating dish or the careless handling of 
re-agents, only, he unfolded it, and shaking 
his glasses down upon his nose by a clever 
movement of the head, glanced carefully over its 
contents. 


1/2 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Can’t you find it ? ” called his friend from the 
Laboratory. 

But Dr. Seward did not answer. 

The Superintendent found his tube stand, and 
depositing his work in safety, started for the office 
to assist in the search for the required paper. 
The two men met in the doorway. For an instant 
the amazed Superintendent thought his staid and 
venerable friend had taken leave of his senses, or 
that the unknown substance he was analyzing had 
developed some heretofore undiscovered ingredient 
and the excitement of Dr. Seward’s face was 
promptly reflected on his own. 

What is it ? he asked excitedly, — “ What has 
happened ? ” 

“ Where did you get that ? ” was the doctor’s 
extraordinary reply as he held before his eyes a 
stained and wrinkled Marriage Certificate. 

That ? ” said the Superintendent, “ let’s see, 
where did I get that ? ” and he took the paper in 
his hand and glanced thoughtfully over its con- 
tents. 

‘‘ Ah, — I remember, the Gardener found it by 
the front gate a year or two ago and I saved it 


THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE. 


173 


thinking I would try and find the owner, but some 
way, it has slipped my mind altogether. But why 
are you so interested ? ” he asked, suddenly. 
“ Do you know the parties ? ” 

“ I think I do,’' was Dr. Seward’s reply. Let 
me take this for a day or two. Doctor,” he said, 
and I may be able to clear up a sad mystery by 
means of it.’^ 

Certainly, but come, tell me about it. You 
have aroused my curiosity.” 

Thinking there could be no harm, the physician 
told him the entire story only leaving out his 
suspicions and Lady Van Tyne’s name from the 
narrative altogether. 

The Superintendent was greatly interested, and 
as the same Gardener was still employed on the 
premises, he sent for him and requested the 
particulars of the discovery and the date as near as 
he could recall it. 

Fortunately, as another matter of more import- 
ance to the Gardener occurred on the very day of 
his finding the paper, he was able to readily 
supply the exact date, and reference to the Hospi- 
tal books showed plainly that a young women. 


1/4 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

enceinte and unconscious, had been found by Dr. 
Jennings and admitted to the wards that same 
morning. 

One of the nurses recalled her perfectly and 
mentioned the fact of her being drenched to the 
skin when found. Her description of the young 
woman tallied exactly with the picture of Elizabeth 
Merril which the Doctor had seen at the house in 
G — St. Remembering that the only clue upon 
which the supposed suicide had been identi- 
fied, was the finding of her shawl upon the bridge, 
he questioned the nurse further and ascertained 
the fact that the suffering woman was without a 
shawl and that the nurse had herself provided one 
on the afternoon of the patient’s departure. 

Satisfied that Elizabeth Merril was not only an 
injured wife and mother, but a living, suffering 
woman, the now thoroughly interested physician 
took possession of the paper, and after ascertain- 
ing the whereabouts of the officiating clergyman 
by means of a directory, drove immediately to his 
address. 

The analysis of the brownish powder was for 
the time forgotten. 


THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE. 


175 


Dr. Seward had little difficulty in finding the 
reverend gentleman of his search, and as briefly 
as possible he explained his errand, then laying 
the water stained paper before him, he waited 
with almost bated breath for the proof of its 
validity. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


TOO LATE. 

Too late — their sorrow now is o’er — 

Their trusting hearts have ceased to beat; 

Beyond the clouds their spirits soar 
To Heaven’s beautiful retreat. 

The clergyman was gray and bent with age, and 
it was some time before his feeble sight could dis- 
cover a corresponding entry in his private memo- 
randum book of marriages. At last he found 
it, and Dr. Seward stooped and read, in the 
old rectors handwriting, the brief statement 
of a marriage contract between one Lawrence 
Maynard and Elizabeth Louisa Merril, the 
date corresponding to the one on the wrinkled 
certificate. 

To make matters even surer, the two walked 
slowly across the street and entering the gloomy 

176 


TOO LATE. 


177 


doorway of a small, stone paved Chapel, passed on 
into the vestry and carefully examined the record 
of events occurring within its walls. 

Again their search was successful. 

Elizabeth Merril had been a lawful, wedded wife 
for nearly three years, and deep in thought as to 
what course it was best to pursue, Dr. Seward 
took leave of the venerable churchman and pro- 
ceeded slowly on his way to the home of the aged 
couple in G St. 

He was as undecided how to act when he at 
last stood before the quiet house as he had been 
when he left the Chapel, but as he ascended the 
steps an exclamation of dismay escaped his lips. 

From the old fashioned brass knocker on the 
door there fell an ominous fold of black crepe, and 
before he could fairly recover from the shock of its 
appearance, the door was opened from the inside 
and a prominent lawyer of his acquaintance 
extended his hand and drew him into the narrow 
hall. 

Just in time. Dr. Seward,’' said the lawyer in a 
subdued voice. ‘‘ I was about to send for you ; 
Mrs. Merril has passed away and her husband is 


178 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

fast’ following her. I have just drawn up his will 
and appointed you joint administrator with my- 
self in the settlement of his small estate. He 
begged me to suggest some one and you were the 
first to enter my mind. Don’t refuse, old fellow, 
for the man is dying and there is no time to look 
further if the matter is to be arranged before his 
death.’' 

Confused, regarding his duty in the matter. Dr. 
Seward entered the chamber of death, but his 
practiced eye saw plainly that the information 
regarding Elizabeth came too late to be understood 
by the suffering man. 

The will was rapidly signed and sealed, and as 
if only waiting to complete this final act, the grey 
haired man turned feebly on his pillow and closing 
his eyes, passed painlessly from life to death, as 
had his devoted companion a few short hours 
before, 

, The funeral service was ended, and with 
uncovered heads, both Dr. Seward and the friendly 
lawyer stood beside the new made graves in the 
little cemetery. 

Their duty to the dead was over, and now, as 


TOO LATE, 


179 


arni .n arm they retraced their steps to the silent 
house, Dr. Seward again related the particulars of 
Elizabeth Merril’s disappearance and his subsequent 
discoveries, while the astute lawyer, bristling with 
legal eagerness, listened and drew silent conclu- 
sions from the physician’s limited stock of infor- 
mation. 

The purport of the simple will was as follows : — 

The sum of five thousand pounds, together with 

the house in G St., with its furnishings, were 

to be kept in trust for their missing granddaughter, 
Elizabeth Merril, in case the reports of her death 
should prove unfounded, but if at the end of ten 
years no trace of her could be discovered, both 
house and money were subject to the wills and 
dispositions of the worthy lawyer and physician 
who were made joint administrators by this last 
will and testament of the deceased. 

Almost certain that Elizabeth Merril or May- 
nard still lived, the lawyer promptly undertook 
the difificult matter of finding and restoring her, as 
rightful heir, to the modest possessions of her 
lamented grandparents. 

Meanwhile, Dr. Seward, acting upon a much 


I80 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

desired plan, made prompt arrangements for an 
extended vacation, and great was the surprise in 
his mechanical household when he announced his 
intention of visiting America. 

He felt that Sir Frederic and Mrs. Sinclair 
should be consulted at once regarding the secret 
marriage, so placing the valuable paper in his 
steamer trunk, he boarded the fleetest greyhound 
and was soon far away upon his long anticipated 
journey across the Atlantic. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


THE HOME IN NEW YORK. 

*Tis woman’s best and sweetest claim 
To bear the honored name of Wife — 

But oh, how often is that name 
Her bitterest trial throughout life. 

It was evening, and the cosy parlor was batned 
in rosy light, the curtains were drawn, and true to 
their old time customs Mrs. Sinclair and Stella 
were seated in easy chairs before a glowing fire. 

Stella did not sit at Mrs. Sinclair s feet as she 
did a few months ago ; oh, no, now she sat in the 
matronly dignity of her months of wifehood in the 
rocker by Mrs. Sinclair s side, while her husband, 
quite forgetful of his newly acquired position, was 
well content to lie at her feet on the heavy rug 

and look admiringly up at her lovely face, while 

x8x 


i 82 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


little Elsa romped and tumbled about the room 
and turned things generally topsy-turvy in the 
exuberance of her spirits. 

Mrs. Morris, little Elsas sweet faced mother, 
seldom sat with the family during these peaceful 
evenings, although both Stella and Mrs. Sinclair 
had frequently urged her to do so. 

She had insisted on performing the lighter duties 
of the house, and Mrs. Sinclair, appreciating her 
sensitiveness on the subject, persuaded Stella to 
allow her this as the surest means of keeping her 
beneath their care and influence. 

Not a question had been asked her regarding 
the past, as in Mrs. Sinclair’s just opinions, the sin 
of inquisitiveness overbalances in nearly every 
instance the blessing of charity. 

With tears in her eyes she had requested them 
to call her Mrs. Morris, admitting that it was not 
her name, but before she could say more, Stella 
had placed her arm about her and whispered 
encouragingly, You need tell us nothing; trust 
in us as we shall in you, and try and feel happy in 
our home and I know there will be better days to 
come. I, too, have suffered, but you see how 


THE HOME IN NEW YORK. 


183 


radiantly happy I am now/* and laughing from the 
very overflowing of her joyous heart, Stella kissed 
her tenderly and bade her speak no more on the 
subject. 

_ Dr. Seward’s arrival surprised them greatly, ana 
now, as they sat around the blazing fire they lis- 
tened eagerly for the news which he hastened to 

relate. He told them of his visit to G St. 

and his examination of the powder, describing his 
feelings as nearly as possible while under the con- 
trol of that peculiar drug ; and now that Stella had 
so thoroughly overcome her horror of the subject, 
she also described her experience and corroborated 
the physician s vivid description in every particular. 
Not until he told them of Lawrence Maynard^s 
secret marriage, did they relate in turn, the details 
of Maurice Sinclair’s death as revealed to them by 
the story of the old Commander. 

The physician was completely overwhelmed for 
a moment at this seeming verification of his own 
suspicions. He had felt instinctively from the first 
that the man who so completely upset the Lady 
Van Tyne’s composure on the evening of his first 
appearance, was not tlie son of Mrs. Archibald 


1 84 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Sinclair, yet now, in the presence of the unsus- 
pecting woman, the bewildered Doctor was speech- 
less and disturbed. 

At last he felt it necessary to continue the 
recital, and rallying his wits he congratulated them 
sincerely on their fortunate information and the 
proof that had so stubbornly denied all possibility 
of error. 

With sorrow for the misguided girl, they glanced 
curiously over the certificate and Stella, rising a 
moment later to adjust the shade, laid the paper 
carefully upon the nearest table. 

While they were still talking, the portieres 
dividing the double parlors were pulled gently aside 
and Mrs. Morris entered in search of the little one, 
as it was long after her usual hour for retiring. 

Stella immediately introduced them, but for a 
moment Dr. Stewart nearly forgot his manners in 
the piercing scrutiny of his glance. Somewhere he 
had seen that face before, or one resembling it 
closely, but ransack his memory as he would, he 
could not recall the circumstances. 

Turning quickly from the physician’s searching 
gaze, Mrs. Morris said softly, come Elsa, come 


THE HOME IN NEW YORK. 185 

to mamma ; it is high time little girls were safely in 
bed!" 

But Elsa was hiding beside Mrs. Sinclair s chair, 
and that good lady, with a face as demure as 
possible, was aiding the little culprit in her mischief 
by holding a fold of her gown about the tiny figure. 

Mrs. Morris saw the playful ruse and stepped across 
the room to pull the little one from her hiding 
place, but in doing so she had to pass the table and 
quite accidentally her glance fell upon the paper 
which Stella had just laid down. 

For a moment she stood and stared as if she 
could hardly believe her senses, then with a sudden 
bound, she seized the paper, crying, “ Oh, my 
certificate, my certificate ! Where did you find it ?” 

It was several seconds before any one spoke. 

The little one crept from her hiding place and 
looked with wondering eyes upon her mother, 
while the woman, realizing that now all secrecy was 
over, turned pale and looked from one to the other 
with an expression of piteous pleading in her eyes. 

It was Mrs. Sinclair who was first to recover 
from the painful surprise. Rising hastily, she 
placed her arm about the trembling woman, saying 


i86 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


in tones of sympathy and tenderness, — “ My dear 
child, is it possible that you are Lawrence 
Maynard s wife ? 

“ No, no,” almost screamed the woman, as she 
shrank from Mrs. Sinclair s gentle touch. “ I was 
not his wife, but do pray believe me, I honestly 
thought I was ! ” and she fell upon the floor, cower- 
ing at Mrs. Sinclair s feet in the humiliation of 
her shame. 

Not till her words of self immolation reached 
their ears, did any one present dream of the 
possibility of her ignorance regarding the validity 
of her marriage, but now Dr. Seward sprang to his 
feet and lifted her tenderly from the carpet to a 
sofa, while he explained as clearly as possible, the 
result of his investigations. 

My poor girl,” he said gently, why are you 
so distressed ? Is it possible that you have been 
deceived in this matter.^ You are indeed the law- 
ful wife of Lawrence Maynard. I have proven the 
validity of that marriage by the clergyman himself. 
There is no reason why you should not look us 
all in the face, and with your help we shall soon be 
able to probe this matter to the bottom.'’ 


THE HOME IN NEW YORK. 


187 


For a few moments Elizabeth could hardly believe 
the welcome words. She looked eagerly from one 
to the other for confirmation of the blessed fact, 
then, as her eyes rested finally upon her baby's 
face, she fell upon her knees at Mrs. Sinclair's feet 
and sobbed for very happiness. 

As quietly as possible, Stella rose, and taking 
little Elsa in her arms, carried her gently from the 
room and out of the sound of her mother’s hysterical 
weeping 




CHAPTER XXX. 

SAM LEE DISCOVERS A FARO GAME. 

A hard thing it is to recall to another 
The seeds of wrong doing our brother has sown 
But harder it is, our proud spirits to smother 
And confess to a harvest so largely our own. 

It was long past midnight before the ladies 
thought of retiring, so great was the excitement 
consequent upon the evening’s revelations. But 
at last the Doctor and Sir Frederic were left alone. 
The fire was growing dim, but neither of the gen- 
tlemen thought to have it replenished. The 
physician’s mind was so intent upon the identity 
of Lawrence Maynard that it seemed at last to 
react with unconscious cerebration upon the 
thoughts of Sir Frederic, for he paced the room 
thoughtfully a few moments, then pausing directly 

i88 


SAM LEE DISCOVERS A FARO GAME. 1 89 

before his companion, said anxiously, “ Dr. Seward, 
have you any theory whatever regarding this man, 
— this imposter ? ” 

Like one confronted by the utterance of his 
own private thoughts Dr. Seward started and was 
for a moment embarrassed, but controlling himself, 
he said briefly, “ Yes, Sir Frederic, I have a theory, 
but it is so vague and so intensely disagreeable 
that I dread to give it utterance.” 

Then, as Sir Frederic turned away without 
further questioning, he too, rose excitedly and 
began pacing the floor. 

“ Sir Frederic I will tell you my suspicion,” he 
said suddenly, after a short silence. “ It may be 
but a foolish fancy, yet I cannot shake it off.” 
Then he told him fully, but with deep remorse, 
of the episode in his early life in which the Lady 
Van Tyne figured so conspicuously, but with the 
determination to shield his patient to the last, he 
told the entire story without mentioning a name, 
still to make his theory well founded, he was obliged 
to state that the two boys were as alike as brothers, 
and Sir Frederic, with a sinking heart, gave a 
shrewd guess as to the children s parentage. 


IQO DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

He was only a few years younger than the 
Lady Van Tyne and he now recalled many 
instances of her imprudent demeanor when a girl, 
but the reflection cast upon Archibald Sinclair’s 
morality by the Doctor’s story, was a source of 
deep regret when he thought of the patient, still 
worshiping, wife. 

In another moment his mode of action was 
decided, and placing his hand upon Dr. Seward’s 
shoulder, he said sadly, “ Doctor, I will respect 
your story as I have no doubt as to the truth of 
the facts you have stated, but unless this matter 
can be handled without one word of her husband’s 
treachery coming to Mrs. Sinclair’s ears, I shall 
quietly withdraw from the search and allow that 
masquerading rascal to go ‘ scot free,’ so far as I 
am personally concerned.’* 

And I will gladly close my lips,” answered 
Dr. Seward, “ if you so advise, but find him, we 
must, for it is more than possible that my suspicions 
are unfounded and I can never rest until the mat- 
ter is settled.” 

Sir Frederic had no time to reply, for after a 
hurried rap upon the door, the portly butler, red 


SAM LEE DISCOVERS A FARO GAME. I9I 

With excitement, entered, and beckoning Sir 
Frederic aside, said apologetically : 

‘‘ There’s a Chinaman down at the basement 
door that says 'e must see you hat once, Sir ! 
I bordered ’im away, but ’twas no use. 'E says 
'e’s bound and determined to see you ! ” 

Sir Frederic had not seen Sam Lee since the 
day of his arrival in the city, but he recalled him 
instantly, and feeling sure that his was an errand 
of importance, he dismissed the indignant butler 
and listened with great eagerness for what the 
Mongolian had to say, 

Sam Lee had improved his time while in New 
York and could now communicate quite fluently in 
his funny, broken English, but now, in the intensity 
of his emotions, his newly acquired learning for- 
sook him and for at least five minutes he poured 
forth a succession of abbreviated words and 
sentences that were positively maddening to 
a man so seriously interested as was Sir Fred- 
eric. 

But at last he seemed to comprehend the situa- 
tion, and ceasing his voluble chatter, repeated, 
over and over again the words, “ Me find him ! 


192 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Me find him ! Melican man come klick, — China- 
man show way! ” 

Sir Frederic, sure that the words were true, 
motioned for Sam Lee to wait and then ran back 
to the parlor where he hurriedly explained the 
news to the physician and requested him to act 
his pleasure about accompanying him on so disa- 
greeable an errand. 

Dr. Seward was eager to go, and in a few 
seconds both men were ready for the street. 

Thinking Stella might be alarmed at his pro- 
tracted absence. Sir Frederic mounted the stairs 
and turned the latch of her sleeping room as softly 
as possible. 

The light was burning dimly, and as he sur- 
mised, his wife was far in the land of dreams. 
Her fair hair fell upon the pillow, while the cover- 
lid, slipping from her shoulders, exposed her tender 
loveliness, and almost with tears in his eyes. Sir 
Frederic bent and touched his lips to a wandering 
curl while he covered the dimpled shoulders, and 
then with another look at the beautiful, childish 
face, turned and passed noiselessly from the room. 
The thought that his fair and innocent darling 


SAM LEE DISCOVERS A FARO GAME. 


193 


had once been held within the power of this 
unprincipled villain, sent his blood tingling through 
his veins, and with a sudden thirst for vengeance 
in his soul, he quickly rejoined the others, and 
following closely upon the heels of the excited 
Chinaman, was, an hour later, in the actual pres- 
ence of the man who for nearly three years had 
succeeded in evading justice and escaping the 
penalty of his guilty deeds. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

CLEVERLY CAUGHT. 

The game of chance is played by all — 

The rich, the poor, the great, the small ; 

Fate’s hand the wheel of fortune drives, 

And marks the epoch of our lives. 

The street was one of the shortest in the city, 
extending only the one block from Broadway to 
the Bowery, and the house itself was plain, dark 
and unattractive, but Sam Lee led the way with an 
ease that betokened much familiarity with the 
neighborhood. 

Sir Frederic had thought it best to enlist the 
services of a detective and now the four men 
entered the narrow hall and ascended a flight of 
stairs as noiselessly as possible. 

Sam Lee was still ahead, and arriving at the 

194 


CLEVERLY CAUGHT. 


195 


door above, he gave three short, sharp raps, follow- 
ing these with a peculiar double knock that could 
hardly be mistaken if once heard. Evidently the 
signal was so well given that the wary watchman 
within did not doubt the friendship of the executor 
and neglected to open the wicket as was his usual 
custom before admitting any one. Instead, he 
opened the door a tiny bit while he put his eye 
cautiously to the crack, but before he could get a 
satisfactory glimpse of the new comers, Sam Lee’s 
heavy, cork soled shoe was forced into the narrow 
opening and four stalwart, determined shoulders 
were braced against the door with a force that sent 
the careless watchman spinning backward across 
the dimly lighted passage. 

There were seven or eight men in the inner 
room when they entered, but in less time than it 
takes to tell they had all disappeared but one, 
and he, too, would have vanished had not Sam 
Lee darted into his very arms and screamed like a 
parrot in his unintelligible gibberish. As quick as 
flash, Sir Frederic and the detective grasped the 
gambler’s arms, but after the first wild rush, he 
made no attempt to escape but stood silently 


f 


196 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

before them as if surprised, but in no way alarmed, 
at their somewhat extraordinary proceedings. 

“ This can not be the man,” said Sir Frederic, 
doubtfully. 

“ Yes ! Yes ! Me know him ! ” yelled Sam Lee, 
over and over, while he held to the victim’s coat 
tails with a grasp of vengeance. 

We will soon see,” said the detective, grimly, 
as without ceremony he pulled both hat and hair 
from his prisoner’s head. 

With a movement as quick as lightning the 
man’s hand flew back to his pistol pocket and in 
another moment the detective would, in all prob- 
ability, have fallen, shot through the heart, had 
not Sam Lee, who was still holding fast to the coat 
observed the rapid movement and seized the 
would be murderer’s arm with his wiry fingers. 
An awful struggle followed. As if knowing well 
it was his last chance for life and liberty, the man 
fought fiercely, with the strength of a lion, but he 
was finally held and the all conquering irons 
snapped upon his wrists. Then the false beard 
was removed and once more Sir Frederic looked 
upon the face of Maurice Sinclair as he had seen 


CLEVERLY CAUGHT. 


197 


him upon the evening of that memorable reception. 
Older and more haggard he looked beneath the 
light of the rusty chandelier, and rascal though he 
was, Sir Frederic felt a thrill of pity for the 
reckless nature that should bring its owner 
to such bitter degradation. Sir Frederic was 
the last to leave the room and, as he reached the 
door, he looked again to note more accurately the 
nature of the place. 

Faro, seemed to be the inducement, and that 
the game was well patronized was evident by the 
quantity of bills and silver strewn recklessly about 
the floor during the precipitate retreat of the play- 
ers. 

Not a soul was visible when they descended the 
narrow stairs, and save for the perpetual chatter of 
Sam Lee, no word was spoken during the short 
walk that brought the prisoner within the protect- 
ing walls of Police Headquarters. Whether or no 
the Mongolian’s chatter was understood by the 
silent prisoner could not be determined, for once 
only, did he betray the slightest interest in his 
talk. Sam Lee had evidently referred to some 
incident of the past, as the word “ Calcutta” was 


198 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

plainly recognized, and although the look accomany- 
ing his words was dark and threatening, the 
effect upon the handcuffed man was only to 
make him throw his head back and laugh long 
and heartily, as if well pleased at the untimely 
recollection. 

Not yntil he heard that laugh did Sir Frederic 
really believe in his prisoner’s identity. He had 
heard that musical, ringing laugh once before in 
Mrs. Sinclair’s parlor and now he was certain 
there was no mistake. After seeing their charge 
safely guarded. Sir Frederic and Dr. Seward left 
their cards and promised to supply all further 
information the following day. 

Sam Lee’s dark face was still contorted with 
painful memories, and as the three men rode 
slowly homeward. Sir Frederic tried to ascertain 
the wrong which he felt positive the Chinaman 
had suffered at the hands of the man they had just 
left. He learned enough from the broken English 
to prove his vague surmise correct, for the words, 

Calcutta • Sister,” and “ Revenge ” were only too 
suggestive of the nature of Sam Lee’s grievance. 
'' Sam Lee wait and wait,” he said, “ some time 


CLEVERLY CAUGHT. 


199 


get revenge/* and then with the same warning 
shadow upon his face, he bade them set him down 
at a quiet corner, and the two friends, sympathiz- 
ing deeply with his unmistakable sorrow, shook 
his taper fingers and drove rapidly homeward. 


CHAPTER XXXII, 


FACE TO FACE. 

Is it cruel remorse that now palsies his members. 

And burns in his eye balls like fierce, glowing embers — 

Or is it the shadow of shame that falls o’er him ? 

Ah, No! ’tis the spectre of vengeance, before him. 

It was a trying ordeal for all concerned, but full 
and undeniable identification was absolutely nec- 
essary before further proceedings could be made 
in this important case. 

After their first surprise, the ladies, true to their 
sex, realized the necessity for self control and 
made ready for their disagreeable errand with all 
possible speed. They entered a private room at 
Police Headquarters and, one by one, were ushered 
into the presence of the prisoner and put through 
the category of questions necessary to his identi- 
200 


FACE TO FACE. 


201 


fication, after which, they were allowed to sit and 
await the routine of examination until the last 
informer s signature was affixed to the information 
given. 

Sir Frederic was the first, and as his stern glance 
rested upon the strangely attenuated form of the 
wretched young man, he felt that degree of sym- 
pathy which borders on contempt for one so weak 
— so dwarfed in soul and withal so miserable in 
his weakness, — and briefly stating what he knew 
of the prisoner and his crimes, he stepped aside 
and waited anxiously for the entrance of Mrs. Sin- 
clair and Stella. When the former entered the 
room the man who had called himself her son, rose 
suddenly from his seat, drawing his still boyish 
form to its full height, while his fearless eyes looked 
boldly into hers as if trying hard to force into her 
mind the thoughts that were evidently at that 
moment surging through his own. 

Slowly a look of bewilderment, perplexity and 
seeming recognition crept into her face as she 
gazed, and seeing Sir Frederic standing near, 
she turned appealingly to him as if requesting aid 
in the solving of this difficult mystery. 


202 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


But Sir Frederic’s expression only bewildered 
her more, for it was one of painful consternation. 

It was only when the first question was asked 
regarding her knowledge of the man before her, 
that she regained composure, and not until some 
time later did she mention the extraordinary 
resemblance which she again detected between 
the prisoner and the husband she still so loved 
and mourned. 

During the entire period of Stella’s presence in 
the room, the accused man leaned jauntily back 
in his chair and bravely assumed an air of indiffer- 
ent composure, while his eyes roved admiringly 
over her innocent face, and much of the old time 
passion flushed his cheek as he noted with greedy 
eye the grace and beauty of her finely developed 
figure. 

While his senses vibrated with the magnetic 
thrill of her presence, the lustre returned to his 
wide, gray eyes and a smile of pleasure curved 
his flexible lips, and not even the words of con- 
demnation in her quiet statement were sufficient 
to counteract the enjoyment which the simple 
witnessing of her beauty brought him. He had 


FACE TO FACE. 


203 


thought her dead on that memorable night when 
he stood by the ashes of Julia Webber's ruined 
home, but her marriage to Sir Frederic brought 
her name so prominently before the public that 
the error of his supposition was promptly corrected 
and the few twinges of remorse which he had felt 
at that time were contemptuously laughed to scorn. 
Now he was living over again the few brief hours 
in which she had rested beneath his absolute con- 
trol, and in the memory of that circumstance, the 
present was forgotten. 

His eyes followed her as she hastened to her 
husband’s side after affixing her signature to the 
imposing paper, but a moment later a gentle rustle 
at the door aroused him, and turning suddenly, he 
found himself face to face with the woman he had 
stabbed and left for dead, in the gloomy passage 
of Whitechapel so many months ago. Thoroughly 
surprised and with genuine alarm now stamped on 
every feature, he looked wildly about as if to fly, 
while his cheeks and lips grew white at this 
unlooked for apparition. 

He had supposed Elizabeth dead, and thus far 
no knowledge of his being suspected of the mur- 


204 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

der had ever reached him, for he reasoned that the 
crimes committed in that wretched quarter of 
London were so numerous and so almost untrace- 
able, that he, like many other red handed assas- 
sins, had escaped through a fortunate choice in the 
location of the deed. So great was the sudden 
revulsion of' thought and theory, that his reason 
wavered for an instant as he gazed upon the deli- 
cate, black robed figure. 

The words of Julia Webber’s warning were 
ringing in his ears, and before he could fairly com- 
prehend the terrible situation, the white faced 
woman extended her arms and with a piercing cry 
of “ Lawrie ! Lawrie ! my darling, my husband ! ” 
threw herself upon his breast, and then for want 
of a supporting arm, sank helplessly upon the floor 
at her destroyer s feet. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


“I HAVE NO NAME.” 

What possession more awful that mortal can name 
Than the stigma of passion — the birthright of shame — 

The cloud of abasement grows deep and more dense 
Till the soul is deformed in its darkness, intense. 

It was only for a moment that Elizabeth 
crouched thus on the floor, for before Sir Frederic 
could reach her side she had staggered to her feet 
and confronting the trembling man with eyes 
grown suddenly haggard like his own, she 
exclaimed brokenly : — 

“Oh, Lawrie ! Lawrie ! You won my love 
when my heart was innocent of sin ; you deceived 
me and denied our marriage ; you left your child 
to be born in dishonor and your lawful wife with- 
out protection, — but I will gladly forgive it all if 

you will only right the wrong that you have done 

205 


206 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


our little one by giving her, even at this late hour, 
her rightful name ! ” 

Throughout her tearful, passionate appeal, the 
man she called her husband shrank back with 
lowered lids and hands upraised before his face as 
if to avert the torrent of reproaches that fell from 
her long silent lips ; but now as she forgot her 
wrongs and only begged the rightful heritage of 
her child, the blood rushed violently to his face 
and rising, he bent unsteadily toward her as with 
blazing eyes and husky tones he exclaimed 
excitedly : — 

“ Name ? My God ! How can I give that 
which I never had ? " 

Then turning almost savagely to the wondering 
witnesses, he said bitterly, “ Coward and cur I 
may be, but that is my only legacy, — my only 
inheritance from the parents who brought me into 
a world of sin and left me, nameless and alone, — 
an outcast upon society and a leper among those 
who boast their proud morality.” 

Then as his gaze rested once more upon his 
grief stricken wife, he lowered his tones to almost 
gentleness as he added : “ I saved your honor by 


I HAVE NO NAME.’ 


41 


207 


a legal marriage, but shame for the one honorable 
act of my life made me deny it : — 

“ I tried to kill you,” he continued recklessly, 
but Elizabeth, realizing the awful consequences of 
the dreadful admission, sprang forward, crying 
sharply, “No! No! Lawrie, — not that! Do not 
say that ! ” but he thrust her wildly aside and went 
on as if no interruption had occurred : 

“ That was the second honorable impulse of my 
life. I knew the misery and shame of your sur- 
roundings was worse than death and as I had no 
name to offer you I tried to end your wretched- 
ness ” — 

Before he could say more the hand of the law 
was upon him, and a stern but kindly intentioned 
voice, said briefly, “ Hush, man, — you are closing 
the door of a prison cell upon yourself by your 
talking ; come, answer me and be brief, — are you 
or are you not Maurice Sinclair ? ” 

“ I am not,” was the husky answer. 

“ Are you or are you not, Lawrence Maynard? ” 
At this question Elizabeth leaned heavily for- 
ward on Mrs. Sinclair s arm, straining every nerve 
in her eagerness to catch his answer. 


208 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


I am not,” was again the faint reply. 

Then the officer turned to the excited group 
before him and with an attempt to shorten the 
trying scene, said curtly, “ Do any of you know 
this man, and if so, by what name do you know 
him ? 

There was a moment's silence, then a stranger 
stepped forward from behind the others and almost 
simultaneously the two men looked into each other s 
eyes and exclaimed : 

‘‘ Dr. Seward ! ’’ 

“ Jack Fenton ! *' 

Then the younger of the two, forgetful of his 
weaker fame, sprang angrily forward and grasping 
the physician’s shoulder, hissed fiercely between 
his teeth, You called me Jack Fenton, but you 
know that name is false. You, and you only, can 
tell my father’s name ; speak, man, and clear the 
mystery of my birth, or by the God above — ” 

But the effort was too much for his feeble strength 
and he sank helplessly to the floor. Worn out by 
months and years of intense excitement and 
threatened danger ; dependent upon the uncertain 
issues of chance and speculation for his maintenance 


^*1 HAVE NO NAME.” 269 

and haunted by a morbid thirst for the avenging 
of that shame and secrecy that dwelt upon his birth, 
it was little wonder that the shock of present 
circumstances benumbed his senses. 

When at last the room was cleared, Dr. Seward 
bent above the prostrate man and deep in his own 
heart the pain of a life’s remorse sprang up and 
nearly overcame him. 

How much the young man knew of his part in 
the awful tragedy, he did not know, but deep in his 
own heart he felt that the responsibility of this 
wretched mortal’s sins and miseries rested in great 
measure upon his shrinking shoulders, and satisfied 
now, beyond a doubt, that this was the child whose 
parentage he had so long concealed, he turned over 
and over in his mind the possibilities of yet undoing 
the wrong which he assisted, so materially, to do, 
thereby removing from his own accusing conscience 
the secret that so long had been its burden. But 
for Mrs. Sinclair’s sake the words must yet remain 
unspoken. The prisoner would be speedily returned 
to London, and upon Lady Van Tyne he depended 
for aid in securing for her son, not only all that 
could possibly be done to make his trial speedy and 


210 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


his condemnation light, but the deathless silence 
which should save one noble woman from the 
knowledge of a loved ones treachery. Would 
Lady Van Tyne do this ? Dr. Seward hardly knew, 
but he trusted that a mother s love would brave the 
scorn of public censure, and that human sympathy 
for a suffering sister would raise a shield of silence 
for the trusting wife’s defence. 

The Lady Van Tyne was vain and worldly, still 
it was his only hope, and win or fail, it was for him 
to put it to the test. 

To Sir Frederic, only, he told his plans, then 
acting upon their mutual decision, he returned at 
once to England, leaving the unhappy young man 
safe in the custody of American law and justice. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


THE LADY VAN TYNE WILL FIGHT FOR HER 
HONOR. 

A woman’s mercy is a bark 

Set forth on life’s broad sea to ride, — 

Its course ordained, yet veered about 
By every shifting wind and tide. 


The Lady Van Tyne was standing before the 
long pier-glass arranging the final touches of her 
elaborate coiffure when Dr. Seward was 
announced. The excitement caused by his sudden 
departure for America had hardly subsided when it 
was again aroused by his unexpected return. 

Even Lady Van Tyne, revolving as she was in 
the whirlpool of social duties and pleasures, stopped 
long enough to express some wonder at the eccen- 
tricities of her staid and venerable physician. But 
her eagerness to greet him now as he entered her 


2 12 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

private sanctum did not deter her from once more 
altering the position of a jeweled pin in her abun- 
dant hair and turning again, glass in hand, to note 
the effect of her artistic alteration. 

Ah, doctor,” she exclaimed, as she laid the 
costly glass carefully upon the dressing-case, “ I 
heard that you had returned but I hardly expected 
you would so soon honor me with a call ; — but 
what is the matter ? you look ill” she said as she 
noted the unusual pallor of his face. 

'‘No not ill,” was his reply, as he stood looking 
down upon her while his hands toyed nervously 
with a heavy walking stick. Then making a 
determined effort as if to have it over as soon as 
possible, he said abruptly, “ Lady Van Tyne, for- 
give me, but for nearly thirty years I have kept 
silence upon this subject, but to-day I must speak. 
I have found your son, and if ever man needed 
a mother s love, he does. I beg you to hear his 
story and then let us try together to undo the sin 
committed so many years ago.” The physician's 
face was flushed with shame and eagerness when 
he had finished speaking, but the wave of violent 
anger that swept across his hearer’s features left 


WILL FIGHT FOR HER HONOR. 


213 


her with blazing eyes and tightly compressed lips, 
and for a moment he wondered vaguely what the 
outcome of her emotions was to be. 

It was only an instant’s wonderment, for with 
swift and decided movement she withdrew, the 
heavy portieres, and motioned him to enter a 
more secluded room, then following, she came 
close beside him and clutching his arm, exclaimed 
fiercely, “ How dare you speak of this to me ? 
were you not paid for silence as well as for assist- 
ance in the matter ? 

The physician winced beneath her words but 
she continued angrily, “ learn what you will of this 
child, but remember, please, that I will hear no 
word regarding him or his whereabouts. You 
undertook his concealment,— see you to it that it 
is continued, at least, so far as I am concerned,” 
and she drew herself to her stateliest carriage 
before the shrinking form of the unhappy man. 

But he is your first born, dear Lady Van Tyne, 
— have you no love in your heart for the child of 
your happy days? No feeling of remorse for the 
crime committed against humanity ? no pity for 
the unfortunate boy, thrust nameless and alone 


214 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Upon tiie careless mercy of this cruel, heartless 
world ? ” 

You plead well, Dr. Seward,” she sneered as 
the physician wiped the beads of sweat from his 
heated brow, “^you plead for the very child 
whose abandonment you first suggested, have you 
forgotten that ?” 

“ Alas, no,” said Dr. Seward, sadly. “ I have 
forgotten nothing. I humbly admit the sin which 
youth and thoughtlessness permitted, but believe 
me, I have suffered greatly for that error and now 
when I have found the innocent babe, grown to 
full manhood, with his nature cramped and dwarfed 
by bitterness of spirit ; his hand turned fiercely 
against himself and every man’s hand against him, 
I feel that it is our duty, yours and mine, to come 
forth boldly in his cause and help if possible to 
redeem from death and eternal condemnation, the 
human soul we have so inexpressibly wronged. 

It can not be that you, his mother, will refuse to 
aid me in this undertaking ? ” he questioned 
pleadingly. 

But the Lady Van Tyne was weary of the sub- 
ject. The self control that at first deserted her 


WILL FIGHT FOR HER HONOR. 21$ 

had now returned, and curving her lips in a dis- 
dainful smile, she said distinctly, Dr Seward, I 
have valued your advice for many years but it 
seems to me that now your judgment is deserting 
you. If this is true that you have found the child, 
I can only say, do what you please regarding the 
matter, but depend upon it, I shall deny your 
accusations and defend my position before the 
world with the unlimited means that you well know 
are at my disposal. I have the dignity of my 
family to sustain and the claims of unwelcome off- 
spring shall never interfere between Lady 
Van Tyne and her social position, so” — she 
continued, as she drew aside the heavy curtains, 
“ if you are determined to play the fool we may as 
well shake hands and consider our acquaintance at 
an end forever.” 

But Dr. Seward did not touch the jeweled 
fingers that were extended to him so graciously. 
He merely bowed his head and passed silently out 
of her presence, feeling in all humility that the 
sorrow of the moment was but another expiation 
of the never forgotten error of his youthful days. 
After he had gone the Lady Van Tyne returned 


2i6 death to the inquisitive. 

again to her mirror and took a long survey of 
herself in the polished glass, but some way the 
reflection of her person was not as pleasing as it 
had been an hour before and she jerked the lace 
awkwardly about her throat, while wrinkles hitherto 
unnoticed crept stealthily about her eyes and the 
wave of fine grey hair upon her brow looked singu- 
larly old and unbecoming. She had not deceived 
herself by her apparent calmness of demeanor during 
the physician s strange entreaty, and now that she 
was alone her courage forsook her entirely and she 
sank heavily upon the sofa in a paroxysm of fear 
and trembling while she felt the foundations of her 
respectability shaking beneath her feet and pictured 
her humiliating position if the truth should ever be 
revealed. Not a thought of her son s surroundings 
entered her mind, and, as she finally controlled her- 
self for the evening’s pleasure, a prayer for her own 
protection was the one vague sentiment of her 
selfish, worldly heart. 

It was late that night befpre Dr. Seward retired 
to his private office for an hour with his books and 
drugs, for he had extended his ride after leaving 
Lady Van Tyne’s residence and called upon his 


WILL FIGHT FOR HER HONOR. 


217 


friend at the hospital across the bridge. Here his 
scientific curiosity returned and he again became 
possessor of the little vial of brownish powder. 
That night in the privacy of his professional den, he 
again investigated the mysterious contents. 

Over and over again the breakfast bell was rung 
in the early morning, but not until the household 
was thoroughly alarmed at his continued absence, 
did any one think to try the handle of the office 
door. There they found him, cold and breathless 
upon the well worn sofa, while by his side upon the 
carpet was a curious shaped vial, empty, and bear- 
ing on one side a label whereupon was written in 
Dr. Seward’s own handwriting, the extraordinary 
warning, “ Death to the Inquisitive.” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

STELLA AND ELIZABETH. 


How pure the passion of a woman’s love— 
How innocent the heart that bleeds; 

The wretch is worshiped like the saints above 
In spite of weaknesses and guilty deeds. 


The news of Dr. Seward s mysterious death fell 
like a thunder bolt upon the household he had left 
so recently across the water. 

Mrs. Sinclair mourned sincerely for the loss of a 
life long friend, and Stella, for a fatherly coun- 
sellor. 

For hours after the arrival of the cablegram 
announcing the physician’s death, Sir Frederic 
paced the floor of his apartments, pondering 
deeply on a secret which he felt must be shared 

by non^, He was thinking of Dr, Seward s sus- 

aiS 


STELLA AND ELIZABETH. 


219 


picions as to the parentage of the young man now 
safely guarded within the ponderous walls of the 
“ Tombs.” It had been only a suspicion and 
now the one human being who knew aught of the 
matter was silent in the sleep of death. 

It was left for him to speak the words which 
should wound Mrs. Sinclair’s faithful heart and 
destroy forever the sacred memory which was a 
part of her very being. 

It was plain to him that the unhappy prisoner 
knew nothing of his birth and only suspected Dr. 
Seward of knowledge on the subject through some 
recollection of old associations. If this was the 
case there could be no harm in remaining alto- 
gether silent on the subject, but then, when this 
conclusion was reached, he thought of Lady Van 
Tyne and her probable knowledge and realized 
how impossible it would be to conceal the identity 
of her son from his mother when the question of 
his parentage was raised, as it must be, during his 
trial by English law. 

Whether Dr. Seward had succeeded in obtaining 
an interview with Lady Van Tyne before his death, 
Sir Frederic did not know, and although greatly 


220 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


distressed, he determined to defer the matter as 
long as possible as Mrs. Sinclair and Stella were 
happier now than they had been for many days, not 
only in their freedom from all supposed relationship 
to the guilty man, but in the anticipation of a new 
joy that had recently crept mysteriously within 
their hearts. 

Elizabeth's sorrow was pitiful to behold, but the 
winds of grief were tempered with kindness, in the 
fact of her lawful wifehood and the love of her 
baby girl she found much happiness and comfort. 

It was a pleasure to them all one chilly evening 
as they gathered about the roaring fire, the butler 
entered and unceremoniously ushered into their 
presence the jolly old Commander whose story of 
Maurice Sinclair’s death, brought them sorrow and 
rejoicing, and the kindly young officer of the 
Cunarder whose interest had been the means of so 
much prosperity to Elizabeth and her child. 

“ Ha, Ha,” laughed the bronzed old Captain as 
he tossed little Elsa high in the air ; “You don’t 
look much as you did on the Steamer, little one. 
I guess you’ve anchored in a pleasant port, 
Ay.>” 


STELLA AND ELIZABETH. 


221 


Indeed we have sir,” responded Elizabeth, 
softly, as she gave her hand to him in greeting. 

“ Well, well,” he continued, looking appreciatively 
at her rounded cheeks. “Ton my soul, I never 
expected to see you looking like this. Here, Mate, 
look at her red cheeks,” he continued gaily, turning 
to the young officer. 

The young man blushed like a girl, for all his 
manly proportions, as he took Elizabeth s timid 
hand and bent his head modestly as she said, “ I 
have you to thank for my home and happiness, 
Mr. Moore. You were the first to think of me 
when I was lying sick in that dreadful place.” 

“ Indeed, Madam,” he answered hurriedly, “ it 
was the Chinaman that mentioned the matter to 
me, you must not forget him.” 

“ That is so, what became of the Ching Chong, 
Sir Frederic ? ” asked the Captain as he lowered 
himself slowly into the massive rocker by Mrs. 
Sinclair s side. 

Sir Frederic told him briefly of his last inter- 
view with Sam Lee and the capture of the impos- 
ter, touching as lightly as possible on the facts of 
the case in deference to Elizabeth s presence, and 


222 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


both men sat silently and listened with great 
interest to the recital. 

When it was ended the Captain asked anxiously, 
“ Did he give his name or any clue to his 
identity ? 

“ He said that Jack Fenton was not his name, 
although he had been called by that, and only knew 
himself as an illegitimate child, cast off by his 
parents and reared by those who were equally 
ignorant of his birth with himself. 

“There is no doubt in my mind. Captain, but 
that he is the other lad in your story, but you 
shall see him yourself to-morrow and that will 
remove the last suspicion of doubt regarding his 
identity/' 

“ And this Chinaman,” continued the Captain, 
“ you say he conversed with him in that heathen- 
ish tongue, that in spite of a dozen stops in Chinese 
ports, I could never make head or tail out of, does 
he give him a name or know anything of his past ? ” 

Here, Elizabeth rose quietly and making some 
trivial excuse, passed hastily from the room, but 
not so quickly but that Stella, who had both felt 
and seen her uneasiness, immediately joined her 
outside the door. 


STELLA AND ELIZABETH. 


^23 


Oh, Lady Atherton,’' Elizabeth cried as Stella 
drew her closely to her side in mute sympathy 
when they were alone. “How dreadful it all is. 
To think that the man I loved and trusted ; the 
father of my darling child, should be nameless, 
friendless and alone, with sin upon his soul and no 
one to breathe a word of sympathy in his hour of 
need. Oh, Lawrie ! ” she sobbed, “ If I could 
only come to you.” 

“ But, dear Lizzie,” whispered Stella, You must 
think of yourself and Elsa first of all. You have 
suffered enough and it can do no possible good for 
you to go to him. Wait, Lizzie, wait until he is 
penitent and expresses a wish for his wife’s for- 
giveness.” 

“Yes, I know that he does not care,” cried 
Elizabeth, “ but my heart aches for him and I 
would gladly forgive all if he would only say that 
he loved me. Oh, My Husband. You were 
merciful, — you spared my honor and gave my 
child a stainless birth when, body and soul, I 
would have been your slave. Yes, I too, will 
be merciful,” she continued suddenly with a deter- 
mined voice as she raised her streaming eyes to 
Stella’s face. 


t2\ DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

“ Let me go to him, dear Lady Atherton, my 
place is at my husband s side. Let me plead for 
him at his trial and bear with him the penalty of 
his sins.” 

“ Do you love him so dearly, Lizzie ? ” asked 
Stella sadly. 

“ I loved him once — Yes, yes I love him now,” 
she added, — then facing Stella she asked abruptly, 
“ would you not do the same ? Would you not 
cling to him and work for him, if the man you 
loved was trembling on the verge of awful danger? 

“ I don’t know,” said Stella, doubtfully. Then 
a proud smile curved her lips and her dark eyes 
flashed as she added, slowly, “ I am afraid, dear, 
that my love would never stand the test of sin and 
crime in one I loved. Weakness and error I 
would shield ; I would face danger and bear 
humiliation, but I feel that I could never endure 
to blush with shame for a loved one’s infamy or 
drink the dregs of degradation, although pressed to 
my lips by my husband, himself. No ! Lizzie,” she 
said decidedly, “ when my lover falls from his 
pedestal of honor and virtue and descends to the 
crimes and vices of this earth, I shall cease to love 


STELLA AND ELIZABETH. 


225 


him, and though it tore the weak, fleshy heart from 
my bosom, I would never voluntarily look upon 
his face again.” There was silence for several 
moments between the two when she finished 
speaking, but at last Stella rose and said gently, 
“ Wait here a little and compose yourself, dear, 
while I return to our friends and when you join 
us again there shall be nothing said to distress 
you, for I know,” she added roguishly, “ the young 
officer has not come to see either mamma or me 
and you know Elsa is hardly old enough to receive 
young gentlemen callers without her mother to 
act as chaperone.” 

When Stella returned to the parlor it was as 
she thought. Her husband had made his guests 
familiar with Elizabeths story and she was a 
little surprised to see the young officer holding 
Elsa carefully on his knee while his eyes blazed 
and his features were set in a look of stern 
resolve that boded no good for the villain of 
the narrative, should he by any chance cross his 
path. 


CHAPTER XXXVL 

A LAST ESCAPE. 

Death frees his body, but his soul 
Goes on to its predestined state : — 

But who are we that we should judge— 

Or name an erring brother’s fate ; 

The wheels of the law moved slowly but stead- 
ily forward until but one short day remained 
before the extradition of the nameless prisoner to 
the legal guardianship of his native country. 
Much interest had been excited in his case and 
great scope given the imagination of the curious 
regarding his identity, but all to no avail. The 
cloud upon his birth pursued him and now that 
Dr. Seward was dead there seemed little fear of 
its ever being lifted. 

None but the idly, inquisitive seekers after mor- 
bid sensations called upon him in his prison home 

226 


A LAST ESCAPE. 


227 


until the day before his anticipated departure, when 
a Mongolian, wearing the full regalia of his 
country, begged a brief audience with the carefully 
guarded man. 

No one knew what was said during that short 
interview as the conversation baffled the linguistic 
ability of the Irish guard, but when it was over he 
was promptly ushered out by the son of Erin who 
had listened with open mouthed astonishment to 
their unintelligible chatterings. 

It was only a brief five minutes that the guard 
remained away, but when he returned to his post, 
after seeing the Celestial visitor safely outside the 
building, he thought he detected an unusual odor, 
and going immediately to his prisoner’s door 
demanded to know “ what koind of shmell the 
grasy yaller shkin had lift behoind him, to be 
shure !” 

But there was no answ^er to his inquiry and 
promptly opening the door he was horrified to find 
that in spite of all his vigilance his prisoner had 
escaped him. Not by disappearance of body, for 
the still cold form remained, but by flight of soul, 
instantaneous and complete, while the sickish odor 


228 


DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 


of some unknown drug spoke only too plainly of 
the method employed for his escape from earthly 
bondage. 

For a moment the horrified guard was speech- 
less with concern, then closing the door silently, 
he repaired to the warden s office, and in a few 
short hours all New York was ringing with the 
news of the mysterious death and clamoring wildly 
for the capture of the prisoner's only visitor. 


CHAPTER XXXVII, 


FIVE YEARS AFTER. 


■ And after all perhaps 'tis best 
To make no mention of the past ; 
The clouds have vanished and to all 
The peaceful days have come at last. 


Five years have passed away since that death 
in the lonely prison cell, but from that day, Sam 
Lee disappeared as completely from the gaze of 
man as if he, too, had journeyed to the world from 
whence there is no returning. 

Search was unavailing and inquiry and investi- 
gation alike, fruitless. 

The autopsy made upon the dead man s body 
revealed nothing other than asphyxiation by an 
unknown drug, but whether administered by his 
own or other hands, was never ascertained. 

229 


230 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

Men reasoned, argued and theorized, and at last 
lost interest. 

For Elizabeth s sake, Sir Frederic saw that the 
body was decently interred and then made haste 
to return once more to Portland Place, as it was 
Stella’s ardent wish that her child should be born 
in the home so dear to her own youthful associa- 
tions. 

Little Archie is now nearly five years old and 
baby Millie just turned one, but they have thus 
early demonstrated their importance in the Ather- 
ton family, and no one dreams for a moment of 
denying their claims to attention and worship. 

Mrs. Sinclair is radiantly happy 

Little Archie is her husband s namesake, and 
on him she lavishes so much of her tender love 
that Stella often wonders if baby Millie will not 
some day look with jealous eyes upon her grand- 
ma’s preference. 

The children are frequent visitors at the house 
in G — St., where Elsa watches carefully over their 
frolics with the conscious dignity of her mature 
years. 

Elizabeth thought at first that she could not 


FIVE YEARS AFTER. 


231 


endure to live again beneath the walls that had 
been the scenes of her perilous infatuation, but of 
late a peaceful smile lights up her lovely features 
and the old house has been turned completely up- 
side down with her tasteful renovations. 

Perhaps little Elsa explains matters somewhat 
when she grasps Mr. Morris' extended hand and 
leading him gaily to her playmates, says con- 
fidentially, ‘‘ This is my new papa, Archie, 
mamma says so ! " and “ Mamma,” who has 
entered at that moment, comes blushingly forward 
to be held for a moment in her young husband’s 
arms, while the first deep feeling of perfect love 
thrills her long sorrowing heart with joy unspeak- 
able. 

As for Sir Frederic, he has watched carefully for 
any signs of knowledge on the part of Lady 
Van Tyne regarding the suspicions which Dr. 
Seward so conscientiously revealed to him, but the 
years go by and there is no word. 

The Lady Van Tyne sits calmly on her pedestal 
of virtue, and although its foundations are of gold, 
still there is enough of that precious metal to 
secure her position for many years to come, and 


232 DEATH TO THE INQUISITIVE. 

positive that no word of hers will ever destroy her 
social prominence, Sir Frederic locks the guilty 
secret in his heart and turning to the sweet faced 
women whom he loves, breathes silently a solemn 
vow of “ Death to the Inquisitive.’' 



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